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.History 

OF THE 

Corn Exchange Regiment 

ii8th PENNSYLVANIA VOLUNTEERS 
* 

FROM THEIR FIRST ENGAGEMENT AT 

Antietam 

TO 

Appomattox 

*H — 



TO WHICH IS ADDED 



A ^ecofll of it? Organization and a (Jogplete ^o?tei< 
* 

FULLY ILLUSTRATED 

WITH 

Maps, Portraits, and over One Hundred Illustrations 

-* 






SURVIVORS' ASSOCIATION 

118th (Corn Exchange) Regt., P. V. 






PHILADELPHIA, PA. 
J. L. SMITH, PUBLISHER 



1888 



i 



Copyright, 1888, by I. L. SMITH. 



] \ &Y^ -^ 



TO THE 

Corn Exchange Association, 

NOW 

The Commercial Exchange 

OF PHILADELPHIA, 

WHOSE LOYALTY AND GENEROSITY CALLED THE Il8TH REGIMENT PENN- 
SYLVANIA VOLUNTEERS INTO EXISTENCE: 

TO THE OFFICERS AND MEN OF THE REGIMENT WHOSE 

VALOR AND PATRIOTISM MADE ITS HISTORY: AND 

TO THE FAMILIES OF ITS DEAD HEROES, 



(jUlis bolume, 



WHICH RECORDS ITS GALLANT SERVICE AND BRAVE DEEDS IN THE 
CAUSE OF AN IMPERILLED COUNTRY, 



(iii) 



Our List of 39 Ewrajrsinents, 



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sistant Adjutant Genera] United States Amu , Captain William 
F Biddle ; ex-Senatoi A G. Cattell ; Mr. O. L. Pruden, Private 
Secretary to the President; U.S. Packard, artist, and W. 11. 
Gamble, engra\ ei 

Many published works have been consulted and freely used . 
among them are: Humphrey's " Virginia Campaign of [864 

Genera] Doubleday's " Chancellorsville and Gettysburg;" 
Palfrey's "Antietamand Fredericksburg;" Rev. rheodore Gei 
rish's (20th Maine) "Reminiscences of the War;" General 
Francis A. Walker's " History of the Second Army Corps," 
and John L Parker's (History of )" 22d Massachusetts Regi- 
ment." 

In addition to the above, much matter of an important char- 
acter from the hitherto unpublished manuscripts of Generals 
Warren, Griffin and Chamberlain of the later campaigns of the 
war has been added, Die final chapter o\ the book is devoted 
to a graphic and reliable picture of life in the prison pons of 
the South from the actual experience and observation o( 
[eant Thomas J 1 [yatt 

And in conclusion a word must be said of the publisher, 
poral John 1.. Smith, whoso love for the regiment in which 
he served faithfully until the close o\ the war induced him to 
undertake the arduous task of collecting the material for this 
volume. It is through his untiring exertions, with the as 
sistance of others, that we have this history, which will be a 
valuable .xnd prited memento to the members and their friends. 

With these brief remarks upon our work and workers, we 

present it to our old comrades and all others who have felt <u\ 
interest in the "Corn Exchange Regiment." 



. 



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It was toy good (attune to be more or less imimatffy asso- 
ciated with tb» regiment daring ks entire c areer in the SekL 

> "A.V/ 'X.'A.. '. ' . V />:' i .:' '.-': -.- -; ^- .-_.- ~s:—>.: :'":;/ 

it was in my own co mmand I had therefore opportunity to 

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Iant regiment within three weeks from its master into the ser- 
vice, where, by the force of manly character which well supplied 

V. :-.:-.:-/ .-;;-. .-.:_- -e ^ •.:/•.'■.:■■. : -.-.-. : :::.<: >. :c- 
xrhich recalls the times of cr. root against 

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retire vrith honor. This conduct -aron for it. while as yet almost 
the junior regiment m the corps, that respect which vctcians 

■ 

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that strange and hitherto unexplained phe nome non so frequent 

- - . 



— vm — 

what are supposed to be the enervating influences of city life, 
when suddenly summoned to the privations and hardships of 
war, grew stronger under the test, and in multitudes of in- 
stances even surpassed in endurance and persistence of physical 
force men inured to outdoor toil, and whose stalwart and mus- 
cular forms on their appearance in the field made them seem 
invincible. 

But whatever may be the hidden physiological law shadowed 
forth in this, the record of this regiment gave ample illustration 
of those other truths made clear in days of trial, that "blood 
tells " — that virtue is manhood, and valor, worth. 

It was a fitting consummation of this faithful and gallant 
service that this regiment was one of those which won the 
triumphant privilege of forming that last line of battle before 
which Lee's army laid down the arms and colors of its sur- 
rendered cause. 

These words are written for the brave men held in cherished 
memory and undying affection by one who shared with them 
the sufferings and glories of the field, following, or rather bear- 
ing forward, the blood-red cross which made way for the 
Nation's flag. 

And I bespeak of the readers of this history that appreciative 

interest which is due to those who for the well-being of their 

country pledged and imperilled all that life holds dear, and in 

this devotion gave proof that there are things nobler than 

pleasure and greater than self, which men and women count 

worthy of bravest endeavor and supreme sacrifice. 

Joshua L. Chamberlain. 
New York, Nov. 22, 1887. 



context: 



CHAPTER L 
? UHIOll. 

?.---::-; :X-t T:— ::7:~--. I ijt— j : •' :'rz ~.zz~- 

ment — Interest taken in the Regiment by the Exchange — Letter from Gov- 
ernor Currin, after Shepherdstown — Colonel Prerost — Camp Union 
First Guard — The Misfit — The Awkward Squad — Bacon. Hard Tack, and 
Salt Pork — The Battalion Drill — The Untrained Sentry — Absence without 
Leave — Roll Call — Rations — The Days Work — Pranks — Dirir-r - x — 
A Gift Dress Parade — Tourney to Washington — The Soldiers Retreat — The 

eminent Corral — Bivouac at Arlington H: . — : — 

riched Water — The Meal Chest — Fort Corcoran ..... 

CHAPTER II 

ANTIET.-. 

The 7.egt~ er.: J r ~i!e : — 7: .--.' 7 - :• — ■• 7 : ~~ :e>. 7:_:h the Z :•;—"" 
— The March from Fort Corcoran — Bivouzc at - - gs — Diminution 

ofBaggij: — — z Mooocacy" — Soonds 

of Conflict — John Monteith — Charge ape Ho g s 

— Sg - :f War — Thirsty S a — A 'Irrtial Display — Monument 
Hill — Moving Columns — The Army Loosened — The B^ — 
Brigade — Bumside's Charge — Horrors of Wa — : mfortable Line 

— S" ~ - _ — 

— Carrying off the ¥ led — Sharpsburg — Blackford's Ford 

CHAPTER III. 

77 e Advance — Fording the Stream — Ascending; the Bluff — Ha j irses 
— Order to Retreat— £ e Behavior : — G — De- 
fective Enfield Rifles — Private Jose. ms; 

. : - 1 " 7 : t ■ : ? : - 7 - - . 

ting — 7 ?nel Prevost A. :h the Colors — Colonel P:: 

:x 



— x — 

Wounded — An Awful Scene — Death of Captain Ricketts — The Retreat — 
The Old Mill — Saving the Colors — Killed by Our Own Men — Incidents 
of the Retreat — Lieutenant White Killed — West's Close Call — Incidents 
of the Fight — " Oh ! Captain Ricketts ! " — Doubt About a Quinine Pill — 
" Give it to them, Boys! " — Lieutenant Crocker's Flag of Truce — " Shell 
and be d — d ! " — Crocker and the Confederate General — Major Herring 
and the Regulars — Joseph Meehan's Story — Dr. Joseph Thomas's Narrative 
— Sergeant Peck's Experience as a Prisoner — The 1118th Regiment — One 
of Stonewall Jackson's Staff Visits his Folks ...... 54 

CHAPTER IV. 

FROM SHEPHERDSTOWN TO FREDERICKSBURG. 

Houseless and Homeless — Examining the Doctor — On the March Again — 
Bivouac at Bryant's Farm — Maryland Heights — Crossing the Potomac — In 
the Shenandoah Valley — A Rich Country — " Goose Creek " — Supplies 
Needed — Snicker's Gap — Court-Martial on a Pig — Yankee Trading — 
Empty Pockets — George Slow, and his Visit Home — The Famine at Snick- 
er's Gap — A Life of Emergencies— Ostracism by the Southerners — On the 
March in a Snowstorm — White Plains — At Warrenton — A Chaplain's Call 
— McClellan Relieved of Command — Removal of Fitz-John Porter — " Red 
Warrior " — A Muddy Waste — Belle Plain 95 

CHAPTER V. 

FREDERICKSBURG. 

Promotion to the Ranks — " Unloading Boards" — Signs of Battle — "Stafford 
Heights " — Marye's Heights — Attempts to Lay the Pontoons — -Crossing the 
River in Boats— : The Pontoons Laid— Crossing — A Thrilling Scene — A 
Game of Euchre — The Regiment Crosses the River — View of the Confed- 
erate Position — Slaughter — Diving for Tobacco — Sack of the City — Charge 
over the Plain — Scipio Africanus Rises — Moving to the Front — The Brick- 
yard — Major Herring Wounded — "This is What we Came Here for" — 
Coolness of Colonel Barnes — The Corner Store and Something in it — 
Sunday Morning — Sergeant Stotzenberg — A Prohibition Bullet — Losses in 
the Battle — The Regiment Relieved from the Front — Retreat of the Army 
— Was it a Blunder? 112 

CHAPTER VI. 

WINTER-QUARTERS — RICHARD'S FORD RECONNOISSANCE MUD 

MARCH. 

A Military Town — Potomac Creek Bridge — Decoiations — Fuel — Amuse- 



ments — Military Etiquette and Loaded Arms — Weeding out Incompetents 
— Discipline — Colonel Gwyn in Command — Picket Duty — Preparation of a 
Virginia Family Dinner — Something Suspicious — Investigating the Country 
— A Cavalry Vedette — Scipio Africanus Receives the Parade — A Sad End- 
ing to Scipio's Greatness — A Reconnoissance — Beans Cooked for Five 
Miles — Crossing the Rappahannock — A Treacherous Raft — A Wounded 
Girl — The Dame at the Spring — A Confederate Postman — The Return — 
The Old Year Out — A Battle-line of Ducks — An Army of Crows — Boxes 
from Home Sent by the Corn Exchange — -Peculiar Tastes — An Unfinished 
Task — Mud March — The Second Deluge — Three Miles a Day — Stuck — 
The Wager and its Consequences — Campaign Abandoned . . . 140 

CHAPTER VII. 
CHANCELLORSVILLE. 

Return of Colonel Prevost — Condition of the Army — General Hooker in 
Command — "Joe" Hooker is our Leader — Extra Clothing and Eight 
Days' Rations — Woollen Lined Roads — Crossing at Kelly's Ford on Can- 
vas Pontoons — Fording the Rapidan — The Farthest Stretch — Travelling 
Through the Woods — The Chancellor House; Rescuing the Inmates — 
"Hospitalities of the Country" — Meeting the Enemy — A Quiet Stare — 
A Controlling Position — Disappointment — Dr. Owens Complimented by 
the Confederates — Army Head-quarters — General Hooker's Order — Egypt- 
ian Plague — Beginning of the Fight — Thompson's Tobacco — Withdrawal 
of the Brigade — Scipio Africanus Surrounded — Drawing in the Pickets — 
Rout of the nth Corps — The Rebel Charge — Scarcity of Rations— Shell- 
ing the Hospital — General Griffin's Bowling — Wounded Horses — Woods 
on Fire — Casualties — Death of General Whipple — Peter Haggerty — 
Treed — Captain O'Neill's Eccentricity and Bravery — Retaking the Line — 
"A Bit of a Talk" — Explosive Cartridges — Captain O'Neill's Candle — 
The Storm — Withdrawal of the Army and the Pickets — Pursuit — March to 
Camp — Blue and Gold — Dropping Out — Chris's Ride — Another Blunder. 165 

CHAPTER VIII. 

AFTER CHANCELLORSVILLE CAMP AT GOLD MINE FARM — MID- 

DLEBURG — UPPERVILLE. 

Scipio Africanus Vanishes — General Griffin and the Adjutant — The Captain's 
Jacket — Whoopers — Guarding the 25th New York — Presentation to Gen- 
eral Barnes — " By George, Sir, You're an Orderly " — Retirement of Colo- 
nel Prevost — Strong Picket Line — Gold Mine Farm — Cavalry Fight at 
Brandy Station — A Compromise on Fence Rails — Manassas Plains — In- 
tense Heat and Scarcity of Water — Gum Springs — Goose Creek Again — 



Fight at Aldie — Middleburg — Capture of Stuart's Horse Artillery — Cavalry 
Charges — The " Hooker's Retreat " — Mosby's " Happy Hunting Ground " 
— Dark Days ......... . 210 

CHAPTER IX. 
GETTYSBURG. 

Suspense at the North — March to Gettysburg — "An Army with Banners" — 
Leesburg — Fording the Monocacy — A Remarkable Spring — "Old Four 
Eyes" — Frederick City — Region of Abundance — Disobedience Means 
Death — General Sykes and the Irishman — In Pennsylvania — York — Han- 
over — Visitors — A High Private — The First Day's Fight — A Canard — In 
the Fight — Holding Little Round Top — The Wheat-Field — The Roar of 
Battle — Bigelow's Battery — An Unwilling Recruit — Steady Work — Change 
of Front — Orderly Retirement — The Trestle House Fight — Death of Cap- 
tain Davids — Georgia Prisoners — Major Herring and the Colors — Charge 
of the Pennsylvania Reserves — Dr. Thomas's Description of Second Day's 
Fight — The Last Day — The Devil's Den — Seminary Ridge — A Confederate 
Officer's Mistake — Horrors of Battle — The Crisis — The Charge — The Re- 
pulse — The Victory — " Go and Fight Somewhere Else " — A Famous 
Rabbit — Bigelow's Battery — Brady's Hundred Rounds and his Gun — 
Importance of Battle of Gettysburg ....... 229 

CHAPTER X. 
FROM GETTYSBURG TO WARRENTON. 

General Barnes Wounded — Delicacies for Confederate Prisoners — Surgeon 
Thomas's Order — Indignant Visitors — Identifying a Leg — Corporal Smith 
and the Goose — A Missing Father — The Goose is Cooked and Taken to 
Camp — Attempts at Carving — The Goose Victorious — Advancing — Quar- 
termaster Gardner — Chaplain O'Neill and General Meade — Lieutenant 
Binney — Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching — Recruiting — 
Keystone Battery — Up the Mountain — Fighting for over Fifty Days . . 272 

CHAPTER XL 

AROUND WARRENTON BEVERLY FORD EXECUTION OF FIVE 

DESERTERS. 

Sunday-morning Inspection — Wrong Ammunition — A Facetious Bugler — Re- 
cruits for the Regiment — Bounty -jumpers — Quaker Recruits — Heat and 
Insects — A Dangerous Bath — Heroic Rescue — The Five Deserters — Their 
Trial — Sentence — Death-watch — Execution — Horse-racing — Captain 



X111 — 

Crocker's Mansion ; it is Warmed — Captain Donegan's Picket Line — Gen- 
eral Sykes and the Picket — " You're got Moseby ! " — A Brave Deserter — 
The Patton House, Reception at — Jealousy and its Consequences . . 290 

CHAPTER XII. 
lee's MOVEMENT, ETC. 

Fight at Bristoe Station — Raccoon Ford — The Maple Grove — Captain Don- 
aldson and the Lady — The Captain's Confederate Brother — Information 
Gained — Brandy Station — General Griffin and the Battery — Beverly Ford 
— Martial Display — Back to Brandy Station — A Busy Day for the 5th 
Corps — Stuart's Cavalry Mixed up with Union Forces — Attack at Broad 
Run — Monaghan, of "I," and the Ditch — Movement of the 2d Corps — Cen- 
treville — Fairfax Court-House — Shields, of " H " — Bull Run Battle-field — 
Uncovered Remains — Grave of Colonel Fletcher Webster — Captain Bank- 
son's Album — Buckton — The Road that did not go — Major Herring's pro- 
motion — Chilly Times — "Joe" Hooker's Retreat ..... 312 

CHAPTER XIII. 
RAPPAHANNOCK STATION. 

The " General " — Destruction and Ruin — A Lunette — Signs of Approaching 
Conflict — Captain Sharwood — M'Candless Wounded — " The Guide is 
Left! the Guide is Left!" — A Feint — The Assaulting Column — "Drop 
that Lanyard" — Capture of the Position — Killed and Wounded — Fifteen 
Hundred Prisoners, Four Guns, Seven Battle-Flags — The Devil in Com- 
mand — "Odjutant, dot Horse no Colic got" — "Hard Tack" — Major 
O'Neill — His New Uniform — " This is the Way we used to Dress in Ingee " 
An East Indian Parade — Battalion Review — " Halt, Disperse, and be d — d 
to you" 335 

CHAPTER XIV. 
MINE RUN. 

The March — French's Blunder — " Look Sharp, Kelly ! " — Stealing a Wagon 
Train — A Spy Dies — Flankers — The Regiment Lost — An Abandoned 
House — Rations — A Comfortable Night — A Lost Pig Found — Connecting 
with the Enemy's Pickets — Pocketful of Flat Irons — A Delicate Position 
— Colonel Throop in Command — Finding Persimmons and the Enemy — 
DeVille— Mine Run— Cold Comfort— A Shell, Chaplain O'Neill, and a 
Cup of Coffee — Orders for the Charge — A Solemn Time — James W. Hyatt 
Lifted by a Solid Shot — Walter's Reconnoissance — The Retreat . . 353 



— XIV — 

CHAPTER XV. 

CAMP BARNES — THE WINTER AT BEVERLY FORD. 

Third Winter of the War— Soldiers' Fibs— The Sudden City— The Chapel- 
Amateur Theatricals — The Light of Cincinnati — Dainty Dishes — A Cube 
Meal — An Indignant Cook — Rats — Sergeant Nugent's Campaign — Albert 
DeVille's Sword Hand — Godwin's Musket — "The Homespun Dress" 
— Corporal Smith — "The Trusty Soldier and the Canteen of Whiskey " — 
Larry Mullen's Suavity — Captain Crocker Resigns — Captain Donegan Re- 
signs — The Brigade Broken up — General Bartlett — Lincoln and the Gen- 
erals — The Encampment Ends in Smoke ....... 376 

CHAPTER XVI. 
THE WILDERNESS — LAUREL HILL — SPOTTSYLVANIA. 

The Army Moves — Crosses the Rapidan — Movements of the Division — 
Griffin's Division Opens the Fight — General Bartlett's Narrow Escape — 
" K " persuades a Battery to Remain — Colonel Gwyn Wounded — Loss of 
the 118th — A Fruitless Fight — A Woful Night — Forest Fires and the 
Wounded — General Wadsworth's Death — Musketry Fighting — Colonel 
Herring and the Johnny — The Army Unwinds Itself — Colonel Herring 
Commands the Pickets — March by Brock's Road — Movements — Colonel 
Herring Successfully Resists a Desperate Charge — Makes Arrangements to 
Retain his Position — Severe Loss — Sergeant Fryer Wounded — General 
Warren's Compliment to Colonel Herring — General Sedgwick Killed — 
From the Wilderness to Spottsylvania — A Touching Incident — Movements 
on the loth — Country around Spottsylvania — Damp Reflections — " Where's 
the nSth?" — Heavy Fighting — Success — Carrying Ammunition — De- 
spatch to Colonel Herring — Night of the 13th — Halt in the Night March — 
A Vivid Contrast — The Ny — Enemy's Entrenchments — Picket Firing — 
Peculiar Skirmishing — Visitors to the Front — Wray's Experience — Advance 
of the 18th — Tapping the Corps — Imprudent Johnnies .... 395 

CHAPTER XVII. 
NORTH ANNA — BETHESDA CHURCH COLD HARBOR. 

The 5th Corps Moves — Both Armies Moving Southward — Telegraph Road 
— An Air of Comfort and Ease — Capturing a Major — Successful Foraging — 
Paddy Mulchay and the Goose — Dog Robbers, Pot Wrestlers, Coffee Cool- 
ers — A False Real Alarm — Ned Wolfenden and the Mule — Corporal Smith 
to the Front — The Enemy's Advance Checked — A Decoy and Vengeance 
— Matthew's House — Cutting the Virginia Ceniral Railroad — " By the Left 
Flank" — Mongohick Church — Henry Clay's Birthplace — Entrenching — 



XV — 

Advancing and Covering — Heavy Skirmishing — A Resolute Attack — Cold 
Harbor — Bethesda Church — An Interrupted Dinner — " Mark Time, 
Kelly ! " — Lenoir's Battle — Corporal Smith to the Rear; and with the Reg- 
ulars — Capture of the Fairies — Colonel Herring Covers his Regiment — A 
Tremendous Battle — Walter's Captures — Lieutenant Ware — Successful 
Ruse — Shady Grove Church Road — Ashbrook and Moore — Chickahominy 
Swamp — Shelling the Wrong Place — Friendliness 434 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

PETERSBURG — WELDON RAILROAD PEEBLE's FARM. 

A Long Wait — Feint towards Richmond — Failure to Seize Petersburg — 
Crossings of the Chickahominy — Pontoon Bridge — Looking after River 
Front — Water Famine — Washing in Creation — A Dig for Cover and a Dig 
for Water — Assault on Petersburg — Beauregard's Withdrawal — The Hare 
House — " Piles of Dead " — Colonel Chamberlain Wounded — Commencing 
the Siege — Works around Petersburg — Sergeant Nugent's Well — Friendly 
Pickets — A Fac-simile Letter — A Cowardly Act and its Punishment — 
" Yanks, Don't Fire ! the Hull Thing's a Mistake " — Breastworks — Fort 
Hell and Fort Damnation — Building Bomb-proofs — An Improved Con- 
struction is a Failure — Pud's Supper — Desertion by Brigade — Amnesty 
Proclamation — Careless Exposure — Artillery Practice — Burnside Mine 
Explodes — Sergeant Nugent's Wisdom — The Colored Troops — Dodging — 
Movement to Weldon Railroad — Brutality — Artillery to the Front — Flowers 
House — A Deserved Reprimand — Major Hopper's Account of Engagement 
— Smith and the Grape Jelly — Buzzing Bees — Horse-Racing — Sheridan 
Routs Early — Fort McRae Captured 471 

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE HATCHER'S RUN OF OCTOBER, 1 864 — HICKSFORD AND BELLE- 
FIELD, WELDON RAILROAD, RAID DABNEY'S MILLS. 

General Warren's Report — An Early Start — Forest Fighting — Colonel Herring 
Commands Skirmishers, and Checks the Enemy — Deceived Innocence — 
The Capture and Escape — Disguised — Notice to Quit — Move to Destroy 
Railways — Destruction — Confederate Artillery Driven Off — A Barrel of 
Sorghum: Sergeant Paschall Bathes in it; Likewise Tom Gabe — A Social 
Time — The Colonel's Traps and their Fate — Dew of the Orchard — Done 
— Guerillas — General Order 65 — Furloughs — Executions — Robert Ruffin 
— Composition of Brigade — Intercepting Supplies — Turkey Chase — 
Hatcher's Run — The Enemy Driven — The Regiment Engaged — Captains 
Scott and Bayne Wounded — Colonel Herring Wounded ; He Loses his 
Leg — Cold Comfort — Extract from General Warren's Report — Getting 
Ready for the Final Plunge 5 2 ^ 



CHAPTER XX. 

WHITE OAK RIDGE GRAVELLY RUN FIVE FORKS 

APPOMATTOX. 

The Beginning of the End — Griffin's Division — An Abominable March and 
Successful Fighting— Taunting the Johnnies — Five Forks and Nothing to 
Eat — A Break through the Brigade — Brigade Joins Sheridan — Capture of 
Return Works — Capture McGregor's Battery — n&h Looks after Prisoners 
— Corporal Fletcher Killed — Griffin's Captives — The Sound of Battle — 
Unfortunate Sutlers — The Famous Race — High Bridge — Despatch from 
Sheridan — General Chamberlain — Report of Surrender — Lee's Surrender — 
Microscopic Rations — Confederate Arms — "Didn't we Give it to you at 
Shepherdstown! " — The Foolish Wise — Remembrance of John Brown — 
Gathering Arms and Stores — Seasoned Meat — Relics — The Last Picket 
Line — Empty Hopes and Stomachs — Assassination of the President — Diffi- 
culty with Colored Troops — Hodge's Diary — Closing Thoughts . . 560 

CHAPTER XXI. 
SOUTHERN PRISONS. 

Confederate Sanitary Commission — Close Quarters — A North Carolina Con- 
script — Conscience and Corn Cakes — Andersonville — Shelter — Location — 
Rations— The Stockade — Cook House — Water— Filth — Belle Islanders- 
Dead Line— Cleanliness— Soap— Tents — Thousands Shelterless — Broad- 
ways — Vendors — Running the Blockade — Gambling — Theft — Execution of 
Raiders — Punishment of Thieves — Escape — Tunneling — Wells — Wood 
Rations— Sickness— Doctor's Call — Medicines— Dead House — Dead Wag- 
ons — Burial Ground — Increase of Prisoners — Addition to Stockade — Ovens 
— Beans and Bugs— Fourth of July— Scene at the Gate— Prison Hospital 
— Death of Fullerton — Removal of Prisoners— Stockade at Millen — Black- 
shear — Florence — A Lost Dog — Christmas Dinner — Hospital at Goldsboro 
— Now or Never — Our Flag ......... 

APPENDIX. 

Laurel Hill and Sheridan's Raid — A Few Prison Reminiscences — William H. 
Henning's Prison Experience — Religious Aspect of the 118th — Brief His- 
tory of the Army Hospital and its Work — Gettysburg versus Waterloo — 
Appetite of an Army Mule — A Strange Premonition — Old Big Feet — April 
Thirteenth, 1865 — Who was the Color- Bearer ?— The Surrender of General 
Lee — Flag of Truce at Appomattox — The Private — Circular . . . 657 

Roster . . . . .681 

Survivors' Association, ii8th Corn Exchange Regiment, P. V. . 744 



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From Antietam to Appomattox 



WITH THE 



118th PENNA. VOLS. 



CHAPTER I. 

ORGANIZATION — CAMP UNION 

FORTS ALBANY AND COCHRAN. 

promising results anticipated from 
the majestic advance of the splen- 
didly appointed Potomac Army from 
Yorktown to the Chickahominy in the 
spring of 1862 were speedily dissipated. 
Williamsburg had tested the capacity 
of the Union soldiery for vigorous as- 
sault, while Fair Oaks and Seven Pines 
were assurances of ability for indomita- 
ble resistance. Then for a month there 
was ominous quiet, while the lines of 
beleaguerment were maintained about 
the Confederate capital, when suddenly 
upon the exposed right fell the over- 
whelming shock of Gaines' Mill and 
Mechanicsville. The famous Seven- 
Days' battles followed, with all their 
valor and all their fatalities, and concluding resultlessly at 
Malvern Hill, the leaguers went a-summering on the banks of 
the James. 

(0 




An anxious people viewed the situation with alarm. The 
Government, stirred to renewed activities, called again upon the 
gallant North to recuperate the depleted ranks of her sorely- 
pressed soldiers. Disaster had not abated enthusiasm, nor 
failure diminished zeal. Emergencies are the opportunities of 
heroes, and the patriotic freemen of the North, the East and the 
West again promptly responded with their sturdy volunteers. 
It was this condition of public sentiment that gave birth to the 
1 1 8th Pennsylvania. 

The Corn Exchange of Philadelphia, now better known by 
the more significant name of the Commercial Exchange, was 
composed of a membership conspicuous for their loyalty to the 
Union and their zeal and liberality in sustaining the Govern- 
ment in all its efforts to put down the Rebellion. 

On the morning of the 15th of April, 1861, when the tele- 
graphic announcement had reached the North of South Caro- 
lina's defiant insult to the American flag by opening fire on 
Fort Sumter, the busy hum and bustle of the every-day life of 
the association was arrested to give voice to their indignation. 
The members gathered around the speaker's rostrum with 
anxious faces and sorrowing hearts, and after some preliminary 
proceedings, including stirring addresses by Alexander G. Cat- 
tell and others, it was unanimously resolved "that the Room 
Committee be instructed to purchase immediately and cause to- 
be extended the insulted and still-beloved flag of the United 
States in front of their building, and to keep it flying there 
under all circumstances until the Rebellion was subdued." 

Upon the minute-book of the association of that day may be 
found the following preamble and resolution, which were 
unanimously adopted : 

Whereas, Armed rebellion has raised its hand against the Government of the 
United States, and is now engaged in infamous outrages upon the honor, integrity 
and safety of our beloved country ; and, 

Whereas, It is the duty of all true men, in a crisis like the present, to express 
their devotion to the sacred cause of their country, and their firm determination, 
never to abandon her to her enemies ; therefore 



— 3 — 

Resolved, That the Corn Exchange Association, in the manifestation of their 
unreserved and entire sympathy with the administration in this trying hour, and 
of their earnest desire to do all that men may do in behalf of their country, do 
now instruct their Room Committee to purchase immediately, and cause to be 
extended, the insulted but still beloved flag of the United States in front of their 
building before sunset, and to keep it flying there under all circumstances. 

Both the letter and spirit of this resolution were faithfully- 
kept. Before the sun had sunk behind the western hills, the 
old flag was waving in the breeze, and there it continued to 
wave, in sunshine and in storm, through summer's heat and 
winter's cold, until its honor was vindicated and its supremacy 
an'd rightful authority were recognized all over the land. 

Nor did this patriotic commercial body stop with sentiment, 
patriotic and assertive as it was. In the first year of the war its 
generous treasury was lavish with contributions, and its individual 
members were liberal with their private means to sustain the 
Government, and aid the soldier to meet the emergencies the 
country had been so unexpectedly called upon to encounter. 

In the summer of 1862, still fervent in its unflinching loyalty, 
and abreast with the time, the Corn Exchange resolved, as its 
response to the call for three hundred thousand volunteers, that 
it would give its money and lend its strength and influence to 
furnish an entire regiment of Pennsylvania soldiers, to discharge 
in part the obligation put upon the good old Commonwealth by 
this other call for troops. 

At a meeting of the association held July 24, 1862, the fol- 
lowing action was taken, as appears by the minutes of that day. 
Mr. Cattell offered the following : 

Whereas, Some of the members have taken the preparatory steps towards the 
organization of a regiment, under the auspices of this Association, and have 
indicated for the colonel of said regiment Captain C. M. Prevost, a gentleman and 
a soldier; and 

Whereas, The Governor of the Commonwealth has signified his great pleasure 
in view of our proposed action ; therefore be it 

Resolved, That this Association, declaring their undying devotion to the country, 
and their willingness to bear their full proportion of the duties which now devolve 
on every good citizen, hereby pledge themselves to give their sympathy, aid and 
co-operation to the prompt formation of a regiment, to be commanded by Captain 
C. M. Prevost. 



— 4 — 

Resolved, That to carry out this purpose a committee of twenty-one be appointed 
by the chairman, to collect, by voluntary subscription, the amount of means 
necessary to organize said regiment, and to consult with and aid in all proper 
ways the officers that may be selected to put the regiment in fighting trim. 

Resolved, That it is the sense of this meeting, that the duty of the hour requires 
of all loyal and true men to aid, by their influence, their counsel and means, the 
prompt enlistment of Pennsylvania's proportion of the new call for troops. 

The preamble and resolutions, as read, were unanimously 
adopted. 

It was also moved by Mr. James, and seconded by Mr. 
Budd, that the funds in the hands of the treasurer of the asso- 
ciation be contributed to the above object, which was also 
adopted unanimously. 

In accordance with these resolutions, a committee of twenty- 
one of the most substantial members of the association were 
appointed at this meeting to further and insure the project — and 
most successfully did they fulfil their mission. The names of 
the gentlemen composing the committee were as follows : 

Alexander G. Cattell, Chairman. 

Charles Knecht, Edward G. James, Samuel L. Ward, 

Joseph W. Miller, Philip B. Mingle, Alexander J.Derbyshire, 

Samuel L. Witmer, Job Ivins, Josiah Bryan, 

James Steel, Henry Winsor, W. Duke Murphy, 

Samuel F. Hartranft, Archibald Getty, James Barratt, Jr., 

Henry Budd, Lewis G. Mytinger, P'rank K. Sheppard. 

George A. McKinstry, Hugh Craig, 

The committee entered at once upon the work assigned them 
with great zeal and energy. They offered a large special bounty 
in addition to that given by the Government, with other induce- 
ments, to secure a high grade of volunteers, and in the incredi- 
bly short period of thirty days a regiment numbering nine hun- 
dred and sixty men had been recruited, officered and drilled at 
Camp Union, on the banks of the Schuylkill — had broken its 
camp of recruitment, and was on its way to the front to do its 
part to meet the then impending crisis in the nation's fate. 

Each private of the regiment was provided with a rubber 
blanket, and many other articles of convenience and comfort 



— 5 — 

for the soldier, at the expense of the association, and it is 
questionable whether any regiment that went to the front 
during the war was more generously provided with all things 
needed to minister to the comfort of the private soldier 

From the inception of the work to its close, when this mag- 
nificent regiment, fully and elegantly equipped, left for the field, 
the chairman and other members of the committee gave almost 
their entire time to the work, not only devoting the hours of 
the day but often the entire night in pushing forward and per- 
fecting their arrangements. The chairman of the committee, 
Alexander G. Cattell, an earnest and efficient supporter of the 
Union cause from the beginning of the war, who was afterwards 
United States Senator from New Jersey, was conspicuous in the 
work of the committee. Giving up attention to his private 
business almost entirely, he could be found at almost any hour 
of the day or night, either at the rooms of the committee, or at 
the recruiting stations, or the camp, pressing forward the work 
of recruiting and organization. Indeed, so marked were his 
services, that he acquired the honor of being called the "Father 
of the Regiment," and his interest in the " Survivors' Associa- 
tion " thereof, of which he is an honorary member, shows that 
even at this late day, after a quarter of a century has passed 
away, his interest in the regiment with which he was so closely 
connected has not abated. 

Mr. Samuel L. Ward, the treasurer of the fund subscribed 
for the purpose of raising the regiment, was also conspicuous 
for his devotion to the work and endeared himself to all by the 
faithful discharge of his duties and his uniform courtesy and kind- 
ness to all with whom he came in contact. Indeed, the entire 
committee, with a zeal worthy of all commendation, worked 
faithfully and in entire accord for the accomplishment of the 
purpose which the association had committed to their hands. 

It is worthy of mention that when the camp wherein the 
troops had lain during the time of their organization was 
broken up, and the regiment had gone to the field, his fellow- 
members of the committee, recognizing Mr. Cattell's valuable 



services, voted that the old flag-staff under which the regiment 
had been formed should be presented to him ; and when it had 
been planted upon the lawn of his country-seat at Merchant- 
ville, New Jersey, where it still stands, a handsome flag was, 
with appropriate ceremonies, presented to him by the association 
as a body. 

Nor did the work of the committee and the association end, 
or their interest in the regiment cease when it had gone to the 
field. They followed with intense interest and anxiety, min- 
gled with pride, each step of its progress through all its vary- 
ing fortunes to the close of the war. Their interest was mani- 
fested by frequent visits of committees to the front, carrying 
words of cheer and bearing gifts for the men ; by their minis- 
trations to the sick and wounded, notably after the calamity of 
Shepherdstown, and by faithful attention to the wants of such 
needy families as were left behind, whenever such wants were 
made known, and also by generous contributions to the widows 
and orphans of those who fell on the battle-field. More than 
one hundred thousand dollars were collected and expended by 
the association and its members in their patriotic work of send- 
ing men to the field and of providing for the needy families 
connected therewith. Although technically called the 118th 
Pennsylvania Volunteers, the regiment was known throughout 
the war as the " Corn Exchange Regiment of Philadelphia," 
and the association has ever felt a just pride in the valor and 
achievements of the brave boys that bore their name. 

At the close of the war the survivors of the regiment de- 
posited with the Corn Exchange the worn and tattered battle- 
flag carried at Shepherdstown, and from there to Appomattox. 
It was afterwards presented by the association to General Pre- 
vost, as its rightful custodian and guardian. In the course of 
his graceful speech of acceptance, in reply to the presentation 
remarks of President Hinchman, he did the association the 
honor to say : " It is my duty, as well as pleasure, to say for 
myself and for my brother-officers, that we feel that whatever 
character we have made as soldiers, whatever distinction we 



have earned, we are largely indebted to this association for 
giving us the opportunity. It was your patriotism and liberal- 
ity that placed the Corn Exchange Regiment in the field ; and 
you, gentlemen, are sharers in the glory it earned. Nor did 
your liberality end there. Your donations were placed in the 
hands of such devoted men as Hoffman, Ward, Knecht, Hart- 
ranft, and others, who were untiring in their devotion to the 
wounded and dying, and smoothed the path to the grave of 
many a brave fellow ; and widows and orphans have reason to 
bless the Corn Exchange Association for your liberal dona- 
tions dispensed by these gentlemen." 

Since the Corn Exchange took their patriotic action in con- 
nection with the regiment a quarter of a century has passed 
away, and many, indeed most of those who bore an active part 
in this loyal work, have passed to that " bourn from which no 
traveller returns." Of the committee of twenty-one there are 
but eight survivors. But the loyal men of the association 
of that day sowed broadcast the seeds of patriotism in their 
organization which have ripened into an abundant harvest, and 
the flame of liberty burns as brightly in the hearts of their suc- 
cessors, " The Commercial Exchange," as it did in the parent 
body. And if ever the nalion is again imperiled by foes from 
without or within, it will stand by the Government with the 
same zeal and fidelity as did its predecessor, " The Corn Ex- 
change," on the 24th day of July, 1862. 

Already the spirit of the old has been reproduced in the 
new organization, as shown by their recent generous contribu- 
tion for the erection of an elegant monument on the battle-field 
of Gettysburg, to commemorate the part which was taken by 
the regiment on that memorable field. 

The following letter from Governor Curtin, written on a 
special occasion after the disaster at Shepherdstown, in which 
this regiment suffered largely, will be read with interest, as, in 
addition to his words of sympathy, he speaks of the connection 
of the Corn Exchange with " the 1 1 8th Pennsylvania" in very 
complimentary terms : 



Harrisburg, Pa., October 6, 1862. 
To the President and Members of the Corn Exchange, Philadelphia, Pa.: 

Gentlemen : I have been so constantly occupied that I have been unable to 
express to you, and through you to the regiment of volunteers called into service 
for the defence of the Government, and with which your association is so closely 
identified, my deep sympathy and painful regrets at the occurrence of the recent 
terrible disaster which befell the regiment. 

It is painful, indeed, that brave men, who are ever willing to risk life in the field 
in defence of our State and the safety of our people, when threatened by a numer- 
ous army of the enemies of their country, should meet a fate so melancholy as this 
which has cast a gloom over our entire community at a time when they would have 
been hopeful and exultant. Please express my sympathy to the injured, and my 
condolence with families and friends of the dead. I avail myself of this opportu- 
nity to express to you my acknowledgment for your patriotic liberality in assisting 
to place in the field the Il8th Regiment, Pennsylvania Volunteers, and of offering 
you my congratulations on the courage and gallantry of the officers and men in 
the recent battle. 

Indeed, gentlemen, while our hearts are saddened by the thoughts that so many 
of the brave and patriotic who left our State in the volunteer service, in defence 
of the holy cause of constitutional liberty, are numbered with the mighty hosts of 
the slain — a monument that needs no scroll — yet we cannot fail to find consolation 
in the fact that so many gallant achievements have been performed by our officers 
and men, that the people of Pennsylvania have never failed in their constant loy- 
alty and courage, and that in all the great army of freemen called from their homes 
to sustain our wise and beneficent Government, the troops from Pennsylvania stand 
second to none. 

With the earnest hope, gentlemen, that you may continue to work with the same 
dutifulness in the future, and contribute from your means with the same liberality 
that you have in the past, until this unnatural and insane rebellion has been sup- 
pressed and the supremacy of the law and order fully re-established, 

I have the honor to remain, very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

A. G. Curtin. 

This commercial body had already furnished from its mem- 
bership, or those who had affiliations with it, many good and 
worthy men, who had tasted deeply of the stern severities of 
war. Notable among them was Captain Charles M. Prevost. 
He had earned prominence and distinction on the staff of their 
fellow-townsman, Brigadier-General Frank Patterson, in the 
hard-fought battles of the Peninsula, and on him fell worthily 
the choice of the colonelcy of the regiment their energies had 
so manfully projected. To him they wisely committed its 



— 9 — 

destinies ; to him they intrusted its reputation and theirs ; to 
his skill they gave its training; to his soldierly judgment they 
consigned its military keeping. But six other officers, Gwynn, 
Donaldson, Batchelder, Hand, Walters and McCutchen, had 
been in actual battle. Many others, among them Colonel Pre- 
vost as a captain and Major Herring as a lieutenant, had been 
well schooled in tactical instruction in the Gray Reserves, a 
regiment of high repute in the Pennsylvania militia. From the 
ranks of this organization the line of the 119th Pennsylvania, 
as well as the regiment the history of which we are now 
writing, was supplied with some of its best commissioned 
officers. It still bears distinguished place in the service 
of the State as the 1st Regiment Infantry of the National 
Guard. 

The authority to recruit was received early in August. The 
substantial aid supplied by the Corn Exchange lent an impetus 
to the labor, and the work was prosecuted with unusual vigor. 
Recruiting stations were opened m the most available loca- 
tions : A at 727 Market street, and D at Eighth and Market ; 
B Walnut below Second, C at 833 Market, and G on the north 
side of Market below Ninth ; E at the Girard House, F at the 
north-east corner of Broad and Race, and H on Fifth above 
Chestnut; I at 513 south Second, and K at 241 Race street. 
A was the first to fill its quota to the maximum. Al- 
though several other regimental organizations were in active 
competition, the n 8th was the first to fully complete its 
quota. In fact, before any of the others had actually com- 
pleted theirs, the emergency became so pressing that they 
were hurried to the front with the required maximum still 
incomplete. 

Major Herring was placed in charge of the camp of rendez- 
vous and instruction. It was located on a most attractive spot 
on the west side of Indian Queen Lane, near the Falls station, 
on the Norristown branch of the Philadelphia, Germantown 
and Norristown Railroad, and designated as " Camp Union." 
From the forty-seven men, with which the encampment started, 



— 10 — 

the daily acquisition of recruits soon swelled the number to 
respectable proportions. Guard-duty and a practical applica- 
tion of the principles in the school of the soldier were taught 
as well as the opportunities would permit. But few officers 
could be spared from the recruiting stations. Lieutenants 
Binney, Moss and West were among those on duty at the 
camp. The first guard ever mounted in the regiment was in 
charge of Sergeants Charles Silcox, Company F, and Hillery 
Snyder, Company K, consisting of the following privates: 

Company K — Thomas J. Hyatt; Wm. H. H. Davis ; Wm. B. 
Mayberry ; Jos. P. Davis ; August Sigel ; Ambrose Schwoerer. 
Company F — Wm. Genn ; Robert Harnly ; Wm. H. King. 
Company G — Thos. O'Donold ; John Coonan ; Henry Craig; 
John Werntz; James Dougherty. Company A — Joseph Hess; 
Thos. H. Bullock; Lewis G. Hoffman; G. W. Wainwright; 
Samuel N. Robertson. 

Sergeant J. Rudhall White, who shortly afterwards was pro- 
moted to a lieutenancy, was detailed as clerk to the comman- 
dant. The supplies, tolerably fair, were furnished with reason- 
able regularity. There were but few breaches of discipline, and 
the men, in a spirit of commendable contentment, cheerfully 
accepted the change from the comforts of home to the inconven- 
iences necessarily attending a newly-organized camp. 

A few days after the camp was formed, the men then on the 
ground were furnished with uniforms. As the garments were 
not made to order by fashionable tailors, and were handed out 
somewhat indiscriminately, the effect, in some cases, was pecu- 
liar. A tall, slender man exhibited himself to the quartermas- 
ter and requested a size adapted to his shape. The attempt to 
accommodate him was a failure. The bottoms of his pantaloons 
were three inches above his ankles, with a corresponding declen- 
sion of the top from his waist, while the roominess in other ways 
was marvellous. At the same time, in the next tent to that from 
which the tall volunteer had emerged, a stout little chap had 
pulled on a pair the waist of which was almost to his armpits, while 
his toes had not yet appeared at the bottoms. Justice compels 



1 [ 



the statement that all the fits were not as bad as these two, the 
fact being that some one, whose sense of duty had been throt- 
tled in a spirit of mischief, had adroitly changed the indispen- 
sables. Nevertheless, a gentle shade of melancholy stole over 
many faces as their owners looked down upon the shapeless 
mass of cloth that hung over the manly limbs, the contempla- 
tion of which had theretofore been a pride and satisfaction. 
The coarse, ponderous brogans, given out with the uniforms, 
were also a vexation to vanity. One, to whose lot fell a for- 
age cap that covered his 
ears, was assured it would 
shrink to proper propor- 
tions in the first rain-storm, 
while another, whose cap 
sat nattily upon the very 
tip of his crown, after the 
manner of the British sol- 
dier, was consoled with the 
assurance that the August 
sun would soon expand it 
to suit his comfort and 
convenience. 

The uniforms having 
been donned, and the bro- 
gans relegated to the ob- 
scure recesses of the tents 
for the time being, it be- 
came incumbent upon the aspirant for military fame to as- 
sume the position of the soldier. The men were taken out 
upon the parade-ground in squads, and there the squads were 
separately informed that " the position of the soldier should be 
one of grace and ease." Whereupon, naturally or unnaturally, 
each individual portion of each squad became about as un- 
graceful and stiff as was possible. This, combined with a 
burning inquisitiveness on the part of every one in the line to 
see whether the others were graceful and easy, produced an 




— 12 — 

effect the reverse of soldierly. The drill in the " facings " 
disclosed the fact that many, otherwise intelligent, were not 
certain as to which was their right hand or their left. Con- 
sequently, when the order " Right, face ! " was given, face met 
face in inquiring astonishment, and frantic attempts to obey the 
order properly made still greater confusion. The drill in 
marching and wheeling resulted in tortuous, uncertain lines 
and semi-circular formations that were ludicrous caricatures of 
the results intended to be produced. 

This was the beginning. These were the ripples upon the 
surface of the volunteer's life. Beneath was the deep resolve 
to act well the part assigned them in the great tragedy of the 
Rebellion. 

The record of the conduct of the regiment on many a battle- 
field, the graves in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, 
the armless sleeves, and the folded pantaloons of numbers of 
the survivors, bear witness to the faithful execution of that 
resolve. 

The greater part of the month of August was spent in fit- 
ting the volunteers for the life before them and, among other 
things, to accustom them to the sight and taste of boiled salt 
pork and bacon. The day of hard-tack had not yet come. 
The evil hour of salt pork was put off for a time, as " rations " 
were purchased from the stores in town, and of the pedlers 
who visited the camp. Supplies were also obtained from the 
homes of the volunteers. 

After the men had been drilled in squads and companies, 
the field-officers determined to have a battalion drill, in a field 
that sloped down from the side of the encampment. On the 
afternoon of a clear August day, the regiment was formed 
into a battalion, front on the brow of the slope, and the order, 
" Forward, march ! " given. 

It was a delightful and inspiring sight. The men moved 
down the slope with steady, ringing tread, in perfect line, 
the bright rifle-barrels, with the bayonets on them, gleaming 
and shimmering in the sunlight. They seemed invincible. As 



— 13 — 

they marched on, the band playing, the colors flying, a martial 
spirit in the very air, some unfortunate trod upon a yellow- 
jacket's nest hidden in the grass. There was music in the air. 
On, on, regardless of the stings of the indignant buzzers. But 
another nest was disturbed, and still others ; the music in- 
creased. The yellow-jackets made a spirited attack. The 
regiment hesitated, faltered, wavered, fled ! — fled in confusion, 
covered with stings instead of glory. The Corn Exchange 
Regiment had suffered its first defeat. 

It was a dearly-bought victory for the yellow-jackets. To- 
wards evening scouts were sent out to ascertain the positions 
of the enemy. Camp-kettles filled with boiling water were 
hurried to the front, and ladlefuls discharged into the nests. 
No quarter was given. The yellow-jackets were annihilated. 

The regimental surgeon had not yet arrived in camp. A 
volunteer from the country, Charles F. Dare, afterwards selected 
as hospital steward, who had had some previous experience in 
warfare with the winged, stinging foe, assumed the position, 
and, with becoming gravity, treated his wounded comrades 
with mud plasters, while their unwounded friends gave them 
unlimited chaff. 

There was no more than the usual awkwardness that usually 
attended a first military venture, but some of the incidents 
were highly ludicrous. Prompt and efficient sentinel-duty 
seems to be slow of acquisition. The corporal of the 
guard is sometimes prone to exercise his brief authority with 
unusual severity. The untrained recruit views his approach 
with dread, and is rejoiced when he is relieved of his presence. 
Colonel Gwyn, who, seated in his tent, had for some time 
noticed the exceptional awkwardness of a sentry in his vicinity 
as he passed his beat, finally approached him and relieved him 
of his musket. The colonel was entirely unknown to the 
sentry, either by name or rank. The sentry submitted quietly 
to his disarmament, and, as the colonel walked off carrying the 
piece with him, he turned and anxiously said, " Say, you- — 
what shall I say to that ' bossy fellow ' when he comes around ? " 



— 14 — 

It was the fierce and martial corporal that alone he feared, and 
if the colonel could supply him with an explanation that would 
have been satisfactory to the " bossy fellow," he was at liberty 
to do what he pleased with his piece. He learned better after- 
wards. 

On one occasion Corporal Ferguson, in a spirit of mischief, 
concocted a happy scheme to elude the guard and pass beyond 
the line. He happened on the south-west side of the camp, 
overlooking the Falls of Schuylkill, where a sentry was on 
duty, who appeared neither wise nor vigilant. It was in the 
early evening, and there was a positive prohibition against 
passing the camp-limits after dark. Fifteen or twenty men 
were in the vicinity, and, without communicating his purpose, 
Ferguson, in a loud and authoritative tone, commanded, " Fall 
in ! " It was promptly obeyed, and, after exercising his squad 
in a few manoeuvres, he deliberately marched it, without 
challenge or interruption, over the beat of the sentry. As 
they drew farther and faither from the reach of the sentinel's 
voice, Ferguson's purpose became apparent, and then, with a 
wild hurrah, the whole party broke for the village. Their 
liberty was of short duration. They ran suddenly upon an 
officer returning to camp, who, quickly conceiving from their 
actions and numbers that something was wrong, hustled them 
back without giving them opportunity to invent a story to 
deceive him. 

Every morning, as the August sun rose from his bath in the 
Atlantic, he looked warmly at a mass of hastily and not over- 
completely dressed, yawning, sleepy-headed fellows, with tum- 
bled hair, who had just risen from their heaps of straw and 
emerged from the shelter of their tents to answer the imperative 
roll-call. In each company were one or two sluggards who 
appeared in undress uniform — that is, fatigue-caps on their 
heads, dress-coats pulled on over their under-clothing, their 
feet clad in nature's adornments. For obvious reasons, and to 
the honor of the regiment, these spectacles clung closely to 
the rear rank. 



— 15 — 

From a more elevated position the sun saw the company- 
cooks, invested with all the dignity of their important position, 
dealing out coffee, bacon and soft-tack (baker's bread) — the 
coffee in quart tin mugs, the bacon on tin plates, and the bread 
into outstretched hands. A study of the faces of the men, as, 
seated on the grass, or surrounding improvised tables, they 
partook of their morning meal, revealed content, discontent or 
indifference. Some, blessed — or cursed, as short rations in the 
field at times subsequently proved — with the century-famed 
and chestnut-storied appetite of the ostrich, and the robust 
health of the anaconda, ate with a relish and avidity that told 
of the peaceful complacency of easy digestion. Others were 
certainly longing, not for the flesh-pots of Egypt, but the 
pepper-pots and other mild appetizers of their Philadelphia 
homes. Still others ate as though eating were simply part of 
the business of life ; something that, like other things, had to 
be done, and might as well be done at that time as at any 
other. 

Getting still higher in the sky, the bright-eyed master of the 
day gazed upon the men at company-drill. Some companies 
were evolving the mysteries of " shoulder arms," " present 
arms," " carry arms," " right shoulder shift," and loading and 
firing. Others were marching by the flank, wheeling, fronting, 
facing and perspiring — the last without orders. 

At noon the sun looked straight down upon the soup, 
boiled beef, vegetables and half-melted cooks ; later, from his 
westering place, glanced at the complicated and hurrying 
movements of the battalion-drill ; and still later, just before he 
disappeared behind the hills, reviewed the regiment as they 
stood drawn up on dress-parade, with great satisfaction, as well 
he might. 

So the days went by in single file, each carrying its load of 
work in the manual of arms, and in squad, company and 
battalion-drill. Gradually the heterogeneous was moulded into 
the homogeneous. Metaphorically licked into shape, the vol- 
unteers became — or looked, at least, like — veritable dogs of 



— i6 — 

war, ready to be let loose. Enforcement of discipline and 
obedience to orders ; the yielding up, to an extent, of individu- 
ality and personal will, compacted the regiment into that essen- 
tial state in which it could be wielded by one man as a weapon 
of offence or defence — ready to be hurled against an enemy to 
overwhelm, or to stand as a breastwork to bar the advance of 
an approaching foe. 

In the summer evenings, after the sun had given place to 
near-sighted twilight, in the range of whose vision all sorts of 
pranks could be played without being noticed, many of the 
men changed into boys, and did whatever mischief their hands 
found to do. One, who had an inventive turn of mind in the 
direction of practical jokes, gathered every toad that he could 
find within the limits of or near the encampment. These he 
confined in a pen in the woods, concealed by some underbrush. 
After his comrades slept, he would introduce two or three of 
his toads into each of the two tents adjoining that in which he 
was quartered. This proceeding, for several nights, was with- 
out proper effect. A night came, however, on which he was 
delighted with the results. 

"Jim!" screamed one of the occupants of the next tent; 
"Jim ! get up, quick ! There's a snake in the straw ! " 

The four sleepers were awake, up in an instant, and out of 
the tent. Once outside, they interrogated the alarmist : 
" How do you know there is a snake there ? " 
" I was turning over and put my hand on him." 
This was most conclusive proof. The proprietor of the toads 
came out of his tent and obligingly offered to furnish a candle 
to throw light on further investigations. Arming themselves, 
they cautiously pulled the straw out of the tent, little by little, 
and with raised sticks watched at the entrance, while an ex- 
tended arm, with the light, was held inside. The night scene 
was an interesting one. The rays from the candle revealed two 
solemn-looking toads, squatted on their haunches, apparently 
wondering what the fuss was all about. The presence of toads 
in the tent on the other side of the joker having been discov- 




\^CCA^I\,, 



LIEUTENANT-COLONEL 11STH PENNSYLVANIA VOLUNTEERS. 
BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL U. S. VOLUNTEERS. 



— 17 — 

ered, suspicion was, somehow, directed to him. The boys 
watched, and detected his little game without his being aware 
of it. One morning, in dressing, he found the bottoms of his 
pantaloon legs neatly pinned and a half-dozen or so of toads in 
each. Not confounded, he only said sadly : " Boys, I didn't 
think you'd be guilty of toadying to me in this way." 

Sunday, August ioth, the camp was visited by several hun- 
dred persons. In the afternoon there was divine service under 
the auspices of Samuel L. Ward and James Barratt, Jr., at which 
the Rev. Mr. McConnell and Rev. Wm. R. McNeill officiated. 
The former gentleman delivered a most impressive and patri- 
otic address. 

Sunday, August 17th, divine service was held at camp by 
Rev. Dr. Jackson, whose eloquent and forcible remarks at 
the war meeting in Independence Square so electrified his 
hearers. 

By August 20th there were over nine hundred men enrolled 
and distributed among the companies as follows : A, 98 ; B, 97; 
C, 98; D, 89; E, 95; F, 92; G, 98; H, 98; I, 50; K, 94; 
and at roll-call that evening 674 privates answered to their 
names. In addition to that number, 100 were on guard, 18 
sick, 20 on special service, and 18 were missing. During the 
day Major Herring drilled the regiment at the tap of the 
•drum. 

More than usual was accomplished in the short season of in- 
struction at this camp of organization. To one officer nearly the 
whole credit of the good results there obtained was due. In sea- 
son and out of season Major Herring was constant, watchful and 
attentive, and no detail escaped his observation, no fault passed 
without notice. He instilled a duty, obedience and discipline 
that bore rich fruit, as upon this elementary training was grafted 
the severe and graver responsibilities of a soldier's life. 

Sunday, August 24th, was a memorable day. In the morn- 
ing Rev. Kingston Goddard delivered a very eloquent discourse, 
which was attentively listened to by nearly 1,000 uniformed 
soldiers of the organization and some 2,000 visitors. A fine 



— 18 — 

quartette attached to Company C greeted the reverend gentle- 
man on his approach with some familiar and finely-executed 
sacred music, and added greatly to the interest of the occasion. 
In the afternoon it was computed about 5,000 visited the camp. 
There was no disorder — the behavior of all was in keeping with 
the day.* 

On the 28th Companies H and K made a short street parade 
from 1 2th and Girard streets, under Captain Donaldson, accom- 
panied by a band, and made a creditable display. 

On the 29th dress-parade was held at 5 p. m., after which the 
Rev. John Walker Jackson presented to each man, on behalf 
of the members of the Corn Exchange Association, a Bible, a 
hymn-book, and a blanket. The presents were received by the 
Rev. Charles E. Hill, the chaplain of the regiment. At the 
same time Miss Anita Ward, aged ten years, a daughter of 
Samuel L. Ward, the treasurer of the fund, gave each man of 
Company E a pincushion, the product of her own industry. 

* One of the most eligible and picturesque camps which has yet been established 
in this vicinity is that of the Corn Exchange Regiment, Colonel Prevost, out near 
the Falls of Schuylkill. It is visited daily by thousands of people, and the roads 
leading to it are lively with vehicles all day and evening. About 1,000 men are 
in camp, which is beautifully arranged in a large field, surrounded on three sides 
by groups of forest trees. Last evening an interesting ceremony took place at the 
camp. Lieutenant L. L. Crocker, of Company C, was presented with a beautiful 
sword, sash, belt and accoutrements. His company, which is one of the finest in 
this or any other regiment, was drawn up in line in its company street, and in a 
few graceful remarks Mr. Stephen N. Winslow, on behalf of the donors of the 
beautiful weapon, presented the sword. Mr. Winslow complimented Lieutenant 
Crocker highly, as from a fifteen years' acquaintance he was able to do nobly, and 
he spoke in warm terms of the soldierly and gentlemanly bearing of the men of 
Company C, many of whom he had known in social and business relations before 
they had been called on to defend their country with the musket against this 
wicked Rebellion. Mr. Winslow's spirited and eloquent address was greeted with 
nine cheers by the company. Lieutenant Crocker appropriately responded. At 
the close of the speaking the company marched to the Falls and indulged in some 
pleasant singing and other agreeable exercises, after which they bade good-bye to 
them and returned to camp. Yesterday the regiment at 3 P. M. received their En- 
field rifles. At 5 P. M. the men were put through the manual of arms with distin- 
guished accuracy on dress-parade, when Adjutant James P. Perot acquitted 
himself handsomely. — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin, August 26, 1862 



- i 9 - 

Beck's band was in attendance, and a lively and enjoyable time 
was had. 

On the Sunday before the departure the regiment was hon- 
ored by the distinguished presence of Parson Brownlow, the 
renowned Union clergyman, statesman and soldier of East Ten- 
nessee. He preached a memorable sermon, that thrilled his 
hearers with fervid patriotism. 

August was near its end. Whispers and rumors circulated 
through the camp to the effect that the regiment had been or- 
dered to the front. The whispers and rumors were true. On 
the last day of August the regiment was divided, half starting 
on that day and half on the next. For the first time many of 
the men- fully understood the import and consequences of the 
step they had taken in enlisting. The hour for separation from 
all home associations was at hand. As it drew nearer and 
nearer the laugh and the jest were checked on many a lip, and 
few, indeed, were they who did not see more clearly the serious 
and dangerous side of the undertaking. Hope told of easy 
victory and renown won. But, somehow, the other side would 
turn up and show a reverse of ugly wounds, of sudden death, 
of defeat and disaster. One was leaving a tearful-eyed wife, 
who, at their parting, would bid him God-speed with a brave 
smile, and then, turning in at the open door as he was lost to 
sight, give way to the bitter sobs and tears that she had re- 
pressed for his sake. They would meet again — when ? An- 
other would part with his wife and his boy — his pride, his hope, 
a part of himself, it would seem, when the wrench came. An- 
other was going away from his mother, and she was a widow. 
Sisters would cling around the neck of a brother at the parting. 
All had one or more bound to them by the closest, tenderest 
ties, from whom they were to be severed by time and distance. 
No wonder, then, that sad reflections filled their minds and 
threw grave and anxious shadows upon their faces. 

The good-byes were over. The men were on their way 
through Wilmington and Baltimore to Washington. Some 
sat, with tremulous lips and tears forcing themselves from their 



20 

eyes, in the shadow. True-hearted they were, and tender. 
Afterwards, and often, when the hail of bullets swept the field, 
and the shrieks of shells, like the moans of demons, filled the 
air, these same men marched in the front with faces so stern 
and lips so set that none could dream that thoughts of love or 
pity had ever entered their hearts. Some were moody, some 
laughed with a ring that wanted something to make it honest, 
and some — let it be said under the breath — were jovial with a 
joviality that brought headache in the morning. 

The 31st of August, 1862, had been a disastrous day for the 
Union arms. All the hard blows Pope had received culminated 
in the hardest, and Bull Run, destined only for fatality, again 
recorded a Confederate triumph. 

The gravity of the situation called for every available recruit. 
All the regiments organizing about Philadelphia were hurried 
to the front. By ten o'clock in the evening Camp Union was 
abandoned forever, and at midnight the 11 8th, or most of it, 
was at Broad and Prime street depot awaiting its turn, among 
the others, for transporation to Washington. The limited sup- 
ply caused a tedious wait, and it was five o'clock on the morn- 
ing of the 1st of September before — packed on the inside and 
crowded on the roof of overladen box-cars — a full start was 
made for the destination. 

Reasonably fair speed was made for the character of the 
train, and by two o'clock in the afternoon the command was 
debarked at the President street station in Baltimore, and 
promptly marched to the Washington depot, on Camden street. 
There the indications were, from lack of transportation, of a 
weary and uncomfortable all-night's delay. Fledglings in the 
service, a number of the officers surreptitiously hied away to 
the Eutaw House for a substantial meal and better rest. They 
had arranged to be communicated with should the regiment 
move unexpectedly, and left instructions with the clerk that, 
upon the receipt of such intelligence, they were to be at once 
notified. 

At the supper table the somewhat boisterous conduct of a 



21 — 

few of them drew forth frowning, disapproving glances from 
old General Wool, of Mexican fame, at that time commanding 
the city, who happened, with his family, to be occupying seats 
in the dining hall. After ten o'clock the noise rather increased, 
and the hotel corridors resounded with a good deal of royster- 
ing. A few, a very few, really did retire; when, about midnight, 
those who had sought repose were aroused from their slumbers, 
and the others who had not were interrupted in their frolic, 
with the summons to hurry to the depot, that the regiment was 
in motion. It was obeyed with all the hurry and excitement 
incident to its peremptory character. Neither, however, was 
necessary ; for, upon reaching the station, instead of finding 
active preparations going on for departure, every man was 
soundly wrapped in slumber. 

It was asserted that General Wool had taken this method to 
rid the hostlery of its noisy, undesirable guests. Whoever it 
was, the ruse was successful, and chagrined, and disappointed, 
those who had sought to steal the comforts denied their fel- 
lows found poor consolation in fretting away the balance of the 
night chafing over a lost opportunity. Nor did the train move 
out until ten in the morning. It was a slow run to Washington 
and four in the afternoon before it reached its destination. 

The regiment was marched to the Soldier's Retreat to be 
fed. A most distinguished misnomer, if by the term retreat 
was meant ease, repose and comfort ; and a travesty on sub- 
sistence, if it was intended by feeding to imply that those to be 
fed were to be furnished with a nourishing, substantial meal. 
Sour bread, coffee-colored water, decomposed potatoes, decayed 
beef were in such striking contrast with the comforting, well- 
served supplies furnished by the Volunteer and Cooper-Shop 
Refreshment Saloons in Philadelphia, that the soldiers howled 
a unanimous dissatisfaction. 

The night was spent in the Government corral. Famished 
mules howled discordantly, teamsters yelled their imprecations 
as wagons came and went. In the intervals of quiet there was 
a little rest. 



— 22 — 

On the morning of the 3d of September the regiment crossed 
the Long Bridge, and bivouacked on Arlington Heights, at 
Fort Albany. The journey, which began on the 31st at mid- 
night, with its frequent and lengthy interruptions, was at last 
concluded. 

Other dry and healthful-looking unoccupied sites were in 
view, but the location assigned for our encampment was a veri- 
table swamp. Here and there a little fast-land afforded better 
accommodations to those to whose good fortune it fell to 
occupy it ; but the camp was mainly on soft and miry ground. 
Such inconveniences were soon but little noticed ; any place 
was good enough if the column would only halt. 

The discomforts were insignificant contrasted with the sorry 
plight in which were some of the brave but shattered battalions 
of the Potomac army encamped around and about the vicinity, 
recuperating from the hard work entailed upon them by the 
Bull Run disaster. 

A very handsome silk national standard, of the size pre- 
scribed for regimental colors, had been presented to Com- 
pany H by one of its admiring lady friends, before it left 
Philadelphia. Up to this time the regiment had been provided 
with the State flag only, and the captain of H, with appropriate 
ceremonies, very gracefully devoted his national colors to 
supply the deficiency. Whilst here a detail of the regiment, 
under Lieutenant Walters, was detached to the Balloon Corps, 
and remained absent from the command for some weeks. 

Hard practical work occupied the four days the regiment 
remained at Fort Albany. Drills of every character followed 
each other at intervals so close as to leave but little opportunity 
for leisure or aught else. On the last day of the encampment 
on the low ground, the men, suspecting from its taste, that the 
water of the creek from which they obtained their supplies for 
drinking and cooking was not of the purest, commissioned 
a squad to find the source of the creek and report. They 
went and returned. Some quarter of a mile or more up the 
stream they found a carcass of a horse lying. Still farther 



— 23 — 

up they discovered a regiment encamped on both sides of the 
creek, some of the men washing their garments in its waters. 

The tribulations of inexperience come to the soldier as they 
do to the collegian. Men are as prone to gibe and twit as are 
the youths of the academy. No prohibitory regulation re- 
strained the bent of inclination, and the early history of all 
regiments is rife with many practical pleasantries perpetrated 
at the expense of the readily susceptible. 

Often the victim lays the snare for himself, in his own guile- 
less innocence. 

A young officer standing by the roadside, in the first camp 
his regiment ever made, noticed on the covers of the wagons 
of a passing ammunition train the designation of their contents, 
" Cal. 58." Carried away with enthusiasm for what he believed 
evidenced such unselfish practical patriotism in his fellow- 
citizens of the Pacific coast, he gave vent to his appreciation in 
the expression : " Great heavens, has California, so far removed 
from the scene of hostilities, already furnished so many regi- 
ments to the Union army ! " Such unusual verdancy offered a 
tempting opportunity, and it was not long before his brother- 
officers had him fully persuaded that the Government, solicitous 
to encourage amusements to while away the hours of leisure, 
would supply, upon a duly approved stationery requisition, an 
annual allowance of playing-cards. So firmly was this young 
gentleman convinced that he had been honestly informed as to 
rights of which he was ignorant, that he filled out a requisition 
for two decks of cards, one whist, one euchre, and presented it 
to the colonel for approval. Upon finishing the explanation 
which was, of course, demanded, he was bade to acquaint him- 
self more familiarly with the regulations and not permit him- 
self to be so trifled with in the future. 

It is quite questionable whether all, or nearly all the officers 
of the 1 1 8th were not victims of what, if not a practical joke, 
was certainly a practical mistake. Most of the three officers 
of each company supplied themselves with a mess-chest of 
the most ponderous proportions, large enough to cover nearly 



— 24 — 

half the bed of an army wagon. This they stored with all 
the desirable appliances of kitchen and table furniture in 
prolific quantities. With such a multiplication of impedimenta 
throughout an army, its field-operations might as well be 
suspended. Those who had the experience of active service 
advised against such investments. There advice was not only 
unheeded, but it was strongly intimated that it was prompted 
by motives of parsimony. These mess-chests, though, really 
got farther on their way than those better acquainted had 
expected. It was confidently believed that the depot at Wash- 
ington would see the last of them. Some, however, reached 
Frederick City. There the last survivor was abandoned. One 
by one they had been dropped along the road, and were never 
heard of afterwards. 

On the 8th of September, the command moved to a dry, 
sloping hill-side, in the vicinity of Fort Cochran. Another 
four days of similar exacting instruction followed, and then 
began the sterner calls of duty. All else was soon absorbed 
in the march, the picket, the battle and bivouac; and so it went 
until the end had accomplished the full purpose of the soldier's 
mission, and he had once more found his home in a citizenship 
he had helped make secure. 





MAJOR M8th Regt. P. V. 

Brevet Brig. Gen. U. S. Vols. 



CHAPTER II. 

ANTIETAM. 

ON the 1 2th the regimental individuality was measurably- 
lost through its absorption into the combinations neces- 
sary in the management of great armies and the conduct of grand 
campaigns. The brigade to which it was allotted had borne 
the crucial test of the Peninsular battles and the Second Bull 
Run, and the laurels it had gathered were not to be dimmed 
by the conduct of the 1 1 8th, which so soon showed its valor 
in the hard fighting at Shepherdstown. 

The brigade, the 1st of the ist Division of the 5th Corps, 
was commanded by Brigadier-General John H. Martindale, the 
division by Major-General George W. Morrell, and the corps 
by Major-General Fitz John Porter. The brigade was com- 
posed of the 22d Massachusetts Volunteers, Lieutenant-Colonel 
Wm. S. Tilton commanding; the 18th Massachusetts, Colonel 
James Barnes; the 13th New York, Colonel E.S.Marshall; 
the 25th New York, Colonel Chas. A. Johnson; the ist Michi- 
gan, Colonel Ira C. Abbott ; the 2d Maine, Lieutenant-Colonel 
George Varney. 

The 22d Massachusetts had obtained celebrity from the 
name of its distinguished statesman-colonel, the Hon. Henry 
Wilson, senator from that State. Its march through Philadel- 
phia under his personal command, during the very early days 
of the war, may yet be recollected by the citizens of that day. 
This was about all of the senator's service with troops. His 
great abilities and unflinching patriotism could not be safely 
spared from the halls of Congress, where they were most in 
requisition and where his countrymen demanded his continu- 
ous presence. 

(25) 



— 26 — 

Colonel Barnes, of the 18th Massachusetts, and Colonel 
Marshall, of the 13th New York, had both been educated at 
the United States Military Academy at West Point, and Colo- 
nel Barnes, by virtue of his seniority, in the absence of General 
Martindale, was temporarily in command of the brigade. 

The old song, " Comrades, Touch the Elbow" (which will 
be found on pages 27 and 28), that rang its stirring melodies 
through all the war, and yet awakens the echoes of the olden 
times, had its birth in this brigade. It was here General Mar- 
tindale, with his facile pen, caught his inspiration for its au- 
thorship. And that these brigade associations were never 
severed except by casualties, is convincing that the author was 
not mistaken when he intuitively caught his notions of soldier- 
fellowship from his early associations with this command. 
The work of the 13th and 25th New York and 2d Maine 
was done, and well done, and they passed out of the service at 
the expiration of their term. Otherwise there were no changes 
in the organization save additions, except that the 22d Massa- 
chusetts a few months before the conclusion of its three years' 
service was transferred, but not away from the division. The 
brigade remained continuously in the same division and corps ; 
its only change was in designation at the opening of the Wilder- 
ness Campaign, from the 1st to the 3d. This change came 
about through the general consolidation of the other corps of 
the Army of the Potomac into the 2d, 5th and 6th. All the 
troops of the 1st Division, nine regiments, well tried and true, 
were made the 3d Brigade. To the other two brigades, regi- 
ments were mostly assigned that were not before a part of the 
division organization. The proud badge of distinction was 
always the red maltese cross. 

It was as early as seven o'clock in the morning when 
the order of the assignment was executed, and promptly at that 
hour the brigade began the march from Fort Cochran over the 
Potomac, by the aqueduct bridge, and into the city of Wash- 
ington. Hither and thither it wandered, up and down its broad, 
dusty highways, apparently without aim or purpose. Its citi- 






-27 



QD/r\rade$! Jouel? tl?e Qbou/. 



i 



When 

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Words by Gen. J. H. MARTINDALE, 



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sic greets the ear, 



Our 






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:^=^: 



guns are sight - ed at the foe, Then nerve the hand and 















w » 



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ban - ish fear, And, com-rades, touch the el - bow. 

k— > # 






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r 



— 28 



Chorus. 

n tt n n I 








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Touch the el -bow! now, my boys, Comrades.touch the el -bow. 






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atE3tDt 



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J. 



zz3=atl=£= 



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Nerve the hand and ban - ish fear,Then,comrades,touch the el-bow. 



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J3 



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H^ g g l-£ A f *T I C 



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Home and country patriots fire, 
Kindle your souls with fervid glow, 

The Southern traitors shall retire 

When Northmen touch the elbow ! — Cho. 



Though many brave men bite the sod, 
And crimson heart's blood freely flow, 

Shout, as their spirits soar to God, 

On ! comrades, touch the elbow. — Cho. 



Now show the rocks of which you're made, 
The general signals, march ! Holloa ! 

Then double quickstep, first brigade, 

Charge! Comrades, touch the elbow. — Cho. 



— 2 9 — 

zens were conspicuously absent from the thoroughfares, and its 
dwellings and mansions wore a forsaken, deserted look. The 
bustle and disorder attending the Bull Run disaster had meas- 
urably subsided, but there was evidently still lacking convincing 
assurance that all things were well. The men had grown heart- 
sick and weary of this aimless tramp, when the column, ulti- 
mately turning into the Seventh street road, gradually left the 
hot, dusty city behind it. 

Passing through the formidable earthworks on the north of 
the city, then garrisoned by the 2d Pennsylvania Artillery, it 
bivouacked for the night at Silver Springs, an indifferent hamlet 
in Montgomery county, Maryland. Though the march had 
been a long and weary one, the actual distance accomplished 
toward any definite destination was but seven miles. Wholly 
unused to such fatigues, and totally unacquainted with reduc- 
ing their loads to the minimum by dispensing with useless 
appendages and trappings, the march told upon the men 
severely. The heat was intolerable, the air, unruffled by the 
lightest breeze, stifling, and the huge volumes of grinding dust 
impenetrable to the eye and overpowering. The Washington 
thoroughfares, upon which most of the tramping had been done, 
were not the fine, smooth, even-paved highways of to-day, but 
no better than country dirt roads, and from their continuous 
use, were less suitable for heavy pedestrian operations. The 
experienced soldiers of the brigade tramped along stolidly and 
leisurely, encumbered with no such ponderous, heavily-laden 
knapsacks as bore the men of the 1 1 8th down to the very depths 
of exhaustion. Their personal baggage had simmered to the 
few indispensables conveniently transportable over the shoulder 
in the light and readily adjustable blanket-roll. This contained 
their house and home and what little extra apparel the few 
changes in the fashions of the day demanded. Their migratory 
households were at all times available, with canvas or the can- 
opy skies for their dormitories, as weather, time or inclination 
indicated. Their diet was a movable feast or a transitory fam- 
ine, according as a rich farming country furnished the edibles, 



— 30 — 

or a scant commissariat meagrely supplied subsistence. This 
day's lessons in burden and carriage from their older 
brethren were not lost. Necessities and comfort are cogent 
factors to tuition. Example and illustration in this con- 
nection were better teachers than the remoter methods of 
the pedagogue. In a very short time the 1 18th had shed itself. 
The cumbrous knapsack had been abandoned for its less mili- 
tary substitute, and the roll of blanket, gum-blanket and 
shelter-tent found its place by a practical adaptability in expe- 
riences, without delays, recommendations or intervention of 
advisory boards, quartermasters or ordnance officers. With 
their bronzed faces, battle-tried valor of Shepherdstown and 
tact in adjusting their appendages, they were soon indistin- 
guishable in general appearance from the men who had the 
longest training. They had learned to eat and sleep and rest 
with satisfaction and comfort with whatever advantages there 
were at command, and having acquired with facility the axiom 
that they were never to lose anything, the soldierly appoint- 
ments others had were habitually at their disposal. 

But the results of the day's march were shocking. Over- 
burdened, worn and weary, man after man, yielding to the in- 
evitable, had dropped by the wayside, or straggling, broken and 
dejected, was struggling to reach the goal of his apparently 
endless journey. The sergeant and the color-guard fell in 
complete exhaustion, and the colonel himself bore the standard 
to the bivouac. Three men to a company, as the " strength 
present for duty," was a most creditable showing when the 
final halt was made. 

One weary, dusty private, trudging solemnly and slowly 
along the road, near nightfall, struggling against the heat and 
hi? own demoralized condition, met General Morrell, and, 
touching his hat, said : 

" General, can you tell me where the 1 1 8th Pennsylvania is?" 

" Certainly, my man," replied the general, seriously ; " every- 
where between here and Washington." 

The saddest thing about the matter is, that the general told 



— 3i ~ 

the truth. Reclining against fences, or meditating under apple 
trees, the 1 1 8th averaged about one hundred to the mile. 

The invigorating shadows of nightfall revived many, and 
one by one during the night they gathered about their more 
fortunate fellows who had fully completed their task. But 
when the " general " sounded next morning, not more than 
half the battalion responded. Major Herring was despatched 
over the route travelled, to collect the scattered remnants of 
the other half, and shortly had returned them to their compan- 
ions and restored the regimental symmetry. 

This scattering on the first march out from the national 
capital was not peculiar to the 118th. The early part of the 
month of September, 1862, was unusually oppressive, and the 
new troops, who joined the army about that time, in their earlier 
marches lined the streets of that city and the adjacent road- 
ways with many of their numbers who fell by the wayside. 
Nor was 'the straggling confined solely to the fresh levies; so 
persistent had the offence become with the older soldiers, about 
this time, that severe and ignominious punishments were re- 
sorted to to correct the abuse, and with the old fellows there 
was nothing to be said in mitigation. Toughened and sea- 
soned in previous campaigns, they were not forced to abandon 
their standard from physical exhaustion. There was design 
and method in their conduct, and what they did was with pur- 
pose and deliberation. Happily, though, time and circum- 
stances set all things right, and the brilliant achievements at 
Antietam restored the Army of the Potomac to all the vigor 
of its original cohesion. 

On the 13th reveille sounded at daybreak, and the morning 
meal disposed of, and articles to be transported and carried 
hurriedly gathered and packed, the column moved at seven 
o'clock. There was no improvement in temperature — the sun 
beat down relentlessly, and the dust rose in the same thicken- 
ing, suffocating masses. The route, though, lay through a 
fresh, charming, arable country, with farms and fences and 
buildings indicating thrifty husbandry. 



— 32 — 

The bivouac was made half a mile beyond Rockville, the 
shire-town of Montgomery county, sixteen miles from Wash- 
ington and some thirty from Baltimore. It was a smart-look- 
ing little hamlet, with the usual court-house and jail, a fair com- 
plement of churches, and a population, when at home, of some 
four or five hundred. The women stood about the doorways 
curiously gazing upon the marching men, but there was a no- 
table scarcity of males. This, with no highly demonstrative 
or publicly expressed union sentiment, produced the uncharita- 
ble inference that they had gone to "Ki-yi-yi*" in the other 
band. 

Sunday, the 14th, was pregnant with events and gave birth 
to the annals, historic and reminiscent, of South Mountain and 
Crampton's Gap. Through sultry, suffocating heat and clouds 
of permeating, choking dust, the column bowled along uninter- 
ruptedly from seven in the morning until six in the evening; 
the wearisome journey concluded on the banks of the Monocacy, 
near a village of the same name with the stream, four miles from 
Frederick City. 

This ground became famous subsequently, in the summer of 
1864, as the scene of the battle of " the Monocacy," where Rick- 
ctts, with his 3d Division of the 6th Corps, aided by Lew Wal- 
lace with troops from Baltimore, gallantly checked Early's for- 
midable advance upon the national capital. The stream, flow- 
ing transparent over its rocky bed, the old stone arches of 
the turnpike bridge, the deep-green, gently sloping fields, ex- 
tending their vegetation right to the water's edge, and the tim- 
ber, with open grassy sward between the trees, made the spot 
especially adapted to forgetful repose. Exhausted by their 
continuous tramp of eleven hours, the weary men soon sank 
into restful sleep. 

The startling rumble of far-off cannonading during the 
morning hours broke sullenly upon the ear. These indications 
of distant conflict were an early initiation in the sounds of bat- 

*The well-known yell of the Confederates. 



— 33 — 

tie. As the day advanced and the distance shortened it grew 
intense ; the heavy, thundering, portentous roar was convincing 
that an affair of some magnitude was in progress. And so it 
was ; the day's work dislodged the enemy from the gaps in the 
South Mountain range, and opened the highways to the broad 
valleys beyond. 

John Monteith, a corporal of H, was a strong, well-propor- 
tioned man, yet in his twenties. He was full of a generous, 
genial flow of spirits ; his whole manner was catching. Whether 
fresh and well-fed, or tired and hungry, he could stimulate his 
companions to hilarity that would stir them, when weary, to re- 
newed energy and activity, or hugely entertain them when 
occasion afforded opportunity for amusement. His abilities 
and industry indicated a promising future and speedy advance- 
ment. His sad end, so soon to follow, cut off a career bright 
with the promise of a successful soldier life. He had a rich, 
melodious voice, clear, round and ringing. The column had 
trudged along to that degree of weariness when a painful still- 
ness follows real fatigue. Monteith had noted the situation. 
Suddenly his ringing voice rolled out amidst the quietude, in 
notes full, free and true, in the melodious strains of the entranc- 
ing song, " I Came from the Old Granite State," each verse con- 
cluding with a chorus, ending in " boom, boom, boom ! " The 
effect was instantaneous and the inspiration catching. Gradu- 
ally the regiment caught the strain, fatigues were forgotten, and 
the whole air was sonorous with the melody. It spread beyond 
the regiment, through the entire column of the brigade, and as 
the " boom, boom, boom " died away in our command, another 
took it up until, at last, it subsided in the distance. The effect, 
manifested by enlivened spirits and quickened step, was mar- 
vellous. It continued through the remainder of the journey 
and brought the command to their destination a better, brighter 
set of men. 

There happened in the late afternoon a chance to indulge in 
a sort of " movable feast," that, as has been suggested, was 
opportune only when a productive country was the source of 
3 



— 34 — 

supply. As it was a Sabbath day's journey that had just been 
accomplished, it was aptly fitted to such an opportunity. Our 
men were young as soldiers, hut already fair foragers. 

After the bivouac was made the still-lingering daylight kept 
animate objects moving about the wooded hillside beyond the 
camp, well in view. Their location for the night definitely 
fixed, a number of the men, prompted by a desire for investi- 
gation, or with a view to better their diet, had, with rifle in 
hand, strolled about in the near vicinity. Some hogs had 
broken their cover and were straggling through the woods, 
seeking a sustenance which their owners, to encourage domes- 







tic habits as well as realize <>n them when fairly fattened, would 
have gladly furnished. It required but a slight effort of the 
imagination, even in this thickly-peopled, well-tilled country, to 
licit such strolling beasts as wild. Fresh pork was a succulent 
morsel when contrasted with the daily issues of its salted sister. 
Shots rang out sharply on the evening air, and two well- 
rounded porkers fell victims to unerring aim. Pork boiled, fried 
and toasted " ruled the roost," and many of the I 18th, that way 
inclined, gorged themselves to restfulness with fresh pig before 
the evening shadows faded into the depths of night. 

The march of tin- 15th began so late as eight o'clock. A 
lew miles out the column passed through Frederick City, fort)'- 



— 35 — 

five miles from Washington, and the county-seat of Frederick 
county. It is a borough of some interest, with clean highways, 
\\ ill-paved sidewalks, and its streets all laid out at right angles. 
The stores and mansions are well-built substantial brick struc- 
tures, and indicate it to be a town well grown in years. It is 
nestled in a fertile, prosperous country, and its citizens had 
been a well-to-do, thrifty people. There are the usual court- 
house and jail and some eight or ten places of worship, some 
of them quite attractive. 

Chief among the objects for which the soldier hungers is 
glory, and next comes a good dinner. From behind the cur- 
tains of an open window of one of the houses a matron in 
Quaker-like garb was peeping, when one of the men, desirous 
of reaching some degree of certainty as to the character of his 
next meal, approached the window, and lifting his cap politely, 
inquired anxiously : 

" Madam, what is there in the village ? " 

"A college of some reputation, sir." 

"Great heavens, madam, 1 can't cat a college!" he said, 
testily, and marched on. 

But there was no halt for extended investigation, and the ob- 
servations noted were in the hurry of a pressing march. 

The movement continued beyond the town along the turn- 
pike, with the sun as hot as ever and the dust as thick as usual. 
This roadway'had been well travelled by heavy columns of 
marching men, artillery and trains. Most of the Confederate 
army and several corps of the Union had, the former preceding 
and the others closely following, gone over it. The stones 
were ground into dust. Each side of the road in the fields was 
well tramped out by the infantry, the main thoroughfare having 
been left for the trains. The fences were down entirely. 
Debris, broken wagons and abandoned property were strewn 
about everywhere. Telegraph poles and wires were cut and 
destroyed, and it was quite apparent the only purpose of pur- 
suers and pursued was to get along as rapidly as possible, 
regardless of what was lost, mutilated or forgotten. 



From the journey of the day before and the appearances on 
the next, the merest tyro could conclude that if the enemy 
waited long enough anywhere, something momentous was 
sure to occur, and somebody certainly was bound to be hurt. 
Occasional discharges of artillery were heard during the day 
and intelligence was received that General Reno, a corps-com- 
mander of prominence and distinction, had fallen at the bat- 
tle of South Mountain just as the engagement had nearly ter- 
minated. 

The march concluded at six o'clock and the bivouac was 
made for the night close to the eastern base of the Catoctin 
range of mountains, upon the other side of which, near at hand, 
was the borough of Middletown. 

Between six o'clock on a bright morning in middle Septem- 
ber and the break of day there is but little margin for prepara- 
tion for a hard all-day tramp. But at that hour on the 16th 
the column was all out on the roadway and, stimulated by the 
invigorating morning air, had soon crowned the summit of the 
Catoctins. The autumn shadows had not yet tinged a single 
leaf, and there, in the distance, parallel with the Catoctin and 
sweeping from the north to south, away beyond the range of 
vision, rose the more prominent South Mountain belt. There 
it stood, clothed in all the grandeur of its patriarchal forests, 
dim and majestic in the misty distance. Beneath, for miles, 
lay the broad, beautiful valley, dotted everywhere with barns 
and houses. Its stacks of garnered grain, its tall, waving corn, 
and bright green pasturage, told of the plenty of a toiling, pros- 
perous community. Along the western base of the Catoctins the 
little stream which bore their name threaded its way — cool, re- 
freshing, silent — through its sloping, meadowed banks. Mid- 
dletown, almost a mile in length, with the turnpike for its 
only highway, lay motionless near where the mountains ended 
and the valley began. The scene, broadening in the scope of 
its grandeur, was a rare landscape of mountain and valley, hill 
and dale, stream and village. 

Middletown, a quaint, old-fashioned village of a few hundred 



— 37 — 

inhabitants, was eminently suggestive of the old-time country 
loafing-place. Now, there were no loungers about the grocery, 
and the tavern stoops were deserted. The wayside gossip 
had been lost in the thunders of war on the Sunday just gone 
by. The mighty hosts contending for the mastery on its west- 
ern boundary had left this peaceful vale a charnel-house. 

The handles had been removed from all the pumps in Mid- 
dletown. This aroused much indignation with threats of ven- 
geance from the thirsty soldiers. Their anger subsided when 
it became known that the measure was resorted to only be- 
cause the inhabitants feared a permanent loss of their water 
supply. The demand from such a wonderful and sudden in- 
crease of population had taxed the wells beyond their capacity. 
Some, however, had vented their spleen by loading them with 
stones, earth and rubbish, before the reason for disabling the 
pumps had been made known. 

The distance across the valley was soon covered. The turn- 
pike, the old national road, up the mountain through Turner's 
Gap, is a gradual, easy rise, and on either side of the roadway 
the lands, on the eastern slope, almost to the very summit, had 
been cleared and were under tillage. Most of the hard fighting 
on the 14th had been done to the right and left of the pike, the 
scene concealed from view by the timber. Besides the many 
new-made graves, and the dead gathered in heaps and piled 
by the roadside, there were other evidences of heavy fighting 
on the road. 

From the summit there was a martial display which, for con- 
centration of great masses of soldiery, all in full view at the 
same time, was probably never equalled at any time during, the 
war. From the mountains to the Antietam, a stream flowing 
to the southward, and moving directly parallel with them, is a 
distance of from eight to ten miles. Within this area, over 
plain and valley, deployed, massed, in column and by the flank, 
some moving and others at rest, was nearly the whole Army of 
the Potomac, its infantry, cavalry, artillery and trains. With 
the exception of Franklin's Corps on the left, concealed from 



- 3§ - 

observation, in Pleasant Valley, in the vicinity of Maryland 
Heights, the entire army was within the range of vision to an 
observer standing on the top of the mountain. The day was 
perfect, the air clear and still, the sun bright and dazzling. 
Near the foot lay the hamlet of Boonesboro', a town apparently 
of more thrift and enterprise than Middletown, a good-sizeable, 
comfortable village of some six or eight hundred people. The 
day before the Union cavalry had sent the Confederate rear 
through the place rather precipitately. Many of the enemy 
were killed and wounded, a number taken prisoners and an en- 
tire battery of artillery captured. It was a spirited affair and 
was the cannonading previously noted as " occasional dis- 
charges." 

From the mountain to the bluffs and knolls which line the 
banks of the Antietam westward, and southward to the spur 
which makes the western boundary of Pleasant Valley, the 
whole country was in full view. To the right and northward 
the arable open lands rolled off, with earth and sky united in a 
horizon miles and miles away. 

Noticeable to the right on the mountain-top stood Monu- 
ment Hill, the highest peak of the range. It derived its name 
from a monument erected there by the patriotic citizens of the 
neighberhood many years before, to the memory of Washing- 
ton. Except the base, which still stood, it was all in ruins ; 
since the war the same patriotic sentiment has reconstructed it. 

Lacking the prominent mountain-sides for its boundaries, the 
valley was not so distinctly marked as that through which ran 
the Catoctin. It was evidently as rich, fertile and productive 
as the other, but as the ground was almost wholly concealed 
by the great mass of men and the paraphernalia of war, which 
literally covered it, its thrift and fertility were better indicated 
by the substantial character of the houses and out-buildings, 
and the size of the farms. The houses were solid and massive, 
some of brick and some of stone, and (he barns of stone, large 
and commodious, much after the pattern of their Pennsylvania 
neighbors. 



— 39 — 

Miles to the right and front, climbing the hills and sinking 
over them out of view, were columns upon columns of infantry, 
attenuated by the distance to widths so narrow as to but little 
resemble a moving mass of human beings, and reduced in size 
to patterns so pigmy as scarcely to be distinguishable as men. 
They seemed to writhe and crawl, until the heavy body, desig- 
nated for some determined purpose in that direction, had passed 
entirely out of sight. But with all its strength, as it simmered 
away, the withdrawal of this column seemed in the distance to 
make no perceptible diminution in the vast numbers that still 
remained deployed, halted or shifting for position, over the 
whole surface of the valley below. Smoke twirled from 
miniature camp-fires kindled for a little noon-day bite ; stacked 
in " line of masses," the sun softly glistened from the bright 
barrels of the muskets, or flashed on the pointed bayonets ; 
batteries were parked with their divisions; squadrons stood to 
horse with their battalions. Quarter-masters, wagon-masters, 
teamsters detaching the ordnance from the other wagons, 
gathered their trains into park. Surgeons, ambulances, stretcher- 
bearers, separated from the combatants, and the whole country- 
side — roads, fields, and timber — swarmed with manoeuvring 
soldiery. 

That a great battle was imminent was plain. Nor could the 
1 1 8th stand longer in wonderment and gaze admiringly upon 
the splendid military display passing in the valley before it, as 
if in panoramic appointments for its especial entertainment. It 
passed down the mountain-side and was soon lost amid the 
legions shaking off their impedimenta preparatory to the 
struggle of the morrow. 

There was inspiration everywhere ; It culminated in open 
demonstration in the sonorous melody of the "boom, boom, 
boom " again, as the column passed through Boonesboro', and 
the inhabitants joyously told of the demoralization of the enemy 
that followed the dash of the Yankee cavalry through the town 
on the day previous. 

During the afternoon the whole army loosened itself, and by 



— 4Q - 

five o'clock the regiment went into bivouac in line of battle at 
the foot of a ridge just beyond the village of Keedysville. The 
road from Keedysville crosses the Antietam by " Porter's 
Bridge," a name derived from the neighboring hamlet of Por- 
tertown. The ridge overlooked the creek and the country for 
some distance beyond. A battery in front was in action when 
the regiment came upon the ground, firing with deliberation, at 
extended intervals. Each shot brought its response, and 
though the practice was poor, that indescribable screech of the 
shells, heard for the first time, produced just a perceptible 
tremor of anxiety. Artillery at long range soon ceases to ter- 
rorize, and the men shortly treated the exploding missiles as 
familiar acquaintances. But away off to the right Hooker's 
Division was having it tremendously. The roar of the mus- 
ketry was unceasing, the discharge of the batteries continuous. 
Close enough for at least a full appreciation of the noise of a 
great battle, it was here the desperate struggle of the cornfield 
and Dunker church was in progress, terminating the next 
morning in, probably, as many casualties, for the numbers en- 
gaged and the space and time covered, as any other field of the 
war. 

The eve of a great battle is a wonderful curiosity -breeder. 
Naturally inquisitive, danger, anxiety, novelty, doubt, but more 
particularly the irresistible desire for information he has no 
business with, all impel the soldier to search for material to aid 
him to shape his resultless conclusions. And such they 
habitually are. Truth and rumor, fact and fancy, are moulded 
together to produce wonderful items of news, which are given 
forth as indubitable facts, but prove to be the opposite of real 
results. The stores of assumed wisdom, boastfully communi- 
cated to willing, susceptible listeners, are prodigious. Our 
regiment, new to such things, utterly bewildered with all the 
fugitive gossip manufactured for the occasion, awoke on the 
morrow to find these deceptive fancies lost in the portentous 
happenings they had not even remotely conceived. 

The morning of Wednesday, September 17, Antietam's 



— 41 — 

fateful day, dawned with a clear and cloudless sky. The regi- 
ment was pushed a little farther to the front, in support of a 
battery of the ist New York Artillery, still occupying ground 
commanding a view of a wide expanse of country upon the 
other side of the creek. Through the night the army found its 
positions, and as darkness disappeared before the daylight it 
unfolded vast deployments of lines of battle arrayed for the 
contest soon to be precipitated everywhere. Troops yet arriv- 
ing upon the ground poured in one continuous stream to where 
the battle waged wickedly on the right. There, from earliest 
break of day, the musketry rolled and thundered and roared 
incessantly. The desperate intensity of its terrible crash was 
magnified to the real depth of its deadly purpose from the al- 
most total silence of the batteries. The lines of the combatants 
impinged or struggled at range so close that the guns on either 
side stood dumb for fear their punishment would fall upon 
friend and foe alike. No shout or cheer or yell relieved the 
one all-absorbing, terrible sound ; all else was hushed in awe 
before the deep and deafening roar, increasing in intensity and 
developing in extent as fresh battalions lent their energies to 
the deadly fray. It really never seemed to cease, but was ab- 
sorbed as it extended to the left, and as the day grew apace 
came nearer and nearer to our own immediate front. 

The whole of the corps, the 5th, had come upon the field. 
It lay stretched to the right and rear, impressive from its num- 
bers, awaiting its allotment to the front, as the progress of the 
fight demanded that wavering lines be strengthened, or columns 
of assault assisted. Still to the rear, massed farther down the 
valley, the lances of the 6th Pennsylvania Cavalry, not yet 
abandoned, with their bright red pennants, were distinctive in 
the distance. And away off on top of " Elk Hill " the active 
operations of the signal-flags told of communications of mo- 
ment that the exceptionally clear atmosphere and their position 
of such especial prominence gave them opportunity to gather 
and transmit. 

The guns of the New York battery were served with more 



— 42 — 

rapidity than on the previous afternoon. Danger will not sup- 
press curiosity, and the proximity, within call in case of move- 
ment, prompted some of the more inquisitive to stroll around 
the guns, anxious to seize, thus early, opportunity to closely 
observe artillery in action. It was a place where none had 
business except those whose duty called them there, and death 
or wounds resulting from unnecessary and improper exposure 
are not the honorable scars that add laurels to the chaplets of 
renown. 

The battery commandant, competent to manage his own af- 
fairs, jealously insisted that the ground he occupied was as 
sacredly his as if he were its owner in fee, and he peremptorily 
bade the trespassers be off. He also vouchsafed to say that a 
major of a New York infantry regiment, brought there only by 
curiosity, had been killed within his battery lines only a little 
while before. Nor did he propose that knots or groups should 
stand about among his guns to draw the enemy's fire, and thus 
uselessly expose his own men. A ricochetting round-shot, un- 
comfortably close, strengthened his objections, accelerated the 
pace, and the bunch of inquiring minds dispersed suddenly to 
where they properly belonged. 

At noon the combat raged in all its fierceness. It was near 
this hour when General McClellan, with his large and imposing 
staff, rode upon the ground occupied by our division. The 
deep and abiding enthusiasm that habitually followed him 
promptly greeted him. Shouts, yells, and cheers of apprecia- 
tion rent the air. This unusual noise, so loud that it was borne 
above the din of battle to the enemy's line, brought on a vig- 
orous and persistent shelling. Regardless of the flying, burst- 
ing missiles, there he sat astride his splendid charger, glass in 
hand, calmly reviewing the mighty hosts, whose discomfiture 
with his trusted legions he was bent upon that day accomplish- 
ing. Intent, no doubt, on securing some permanent advantage 
at this particular point, he turned suddenly to Colonel Webb, 
the engineering officer of his staff, who subsequently won imper- 
ishable fame in command of the Philadelphia Brigade at Gettys- 



— 43 — 

burg, and, after a few moments of hurried instructions, de- 
spatched him on his mission down into the valley — down into 
the very jaws of death. The smoke of the conflict soon en- 
veloped him and he was lost to view entirely. 

The perilous duties of the intelligent staff-officer, so fre- 
quently demanding such severe and unusual exposure, so 
forcibly illustrated to the men of the regiment thus early in 
their career, in this gallant ride of Webb's, aroused in them an 
admiration for him which ever afterwards, when he was seen or 
heard of, caused his name or presence to be most enthusiasti- 
cally received. 

As this rider was shortly followed by the famous charge of 
General Meagher's Irish Brigade, now historically considered 
as among the most telling of the war, it was fairly concluded 
that the purpose of Webb's mission was to direct it. This 
notable charge took place in full view from the knoll occupied 
by the regiment. The ground over which they were about to 
move was rough and uneven, and in the distance appeared to 
be a freshly ploughed field. 

The enemy's line upon which the advance was to be made 
was in plain view just outside the edge of a belt of timber. It 
was flanked by several batteries, whose active work of the 
morning had much improved their practice. They were said 
to be part of the celebrated Washington Light Artillery of New 
Orleans, whose fame as artillerists was coextensive with their 
service. From the formation of the ground the preliminary 
preparations could not be concealed ; the enemy caught them 
in their very incipiency and gun and musket belched forth their 
vengeful volleys with telling accuracy. But the gallant Irish- 
men moved into battle-array with the precision of parade. The 
sun glistened upon the bright barrels of the rifles and the colors 
fluttered vauntingly in the breeze. Prominent in its place be- 
side the national standard the green harp of Erin was dis- 
tinctly observed. As the advance progressed and the scathing 
fire cut out its fearful gaps, the line halted with deliberation to 
readjust itself. The dead and wounded strewed the ground, 



— 44 — 

thickening as the distance from the enemy lessened. Twice 
and again the green standard, more distinctly noticeable than 
the regimental color, fell, but only to be promptly seized again, 
still to be borne gallantly onward to its goal. Vast curtains of 
smoke concealed the enemy, rising at intervals, disclosing him ; 
yet unmoved, holding firmly to his post. But nothing dimin- 
ished the courage, nothing could stay the onslaught, of these 
determined men. The deadly moment of impact came, the 
lines impinged, and the enemy, in irreparable confusion, broke 
for the friendly cover of the timber. The Irishmen, still main- 
taining their organization with commendable exactitude, pressed 
them in their helpless flight, until finally, with shout and cheer, 
friend and foe were lost to view in the wood the enemy had 
sought for safety. Tl?e unerring fire of Meagher's men had 
told severely upon his adversary. As he disappeared his 
abandoned line was distinctly marked by a long array of dead 
and wounded who had fallen where they stood. It was not the 
Irishmen alone who entirely did the work, but the brigades of 
Caldwell and Brooks added their valor to the enemy's rout. 

These splendid movements, typical of so many of equal gal- 
lantry during the war, to new troops, who had yet participated 
in no such deadly fray, was an excellent lesson in object teach- 
ing. It bore its fruits subsequently in many a desperate en- 
counter, when the metal of the Pennsylvanians was tested with 
a like severity. 

During this advance of the Irish Brigade a battery of the 
enemy, manned by specially skilled artillerists, by its rapidity 
and accuracy had caused them much annoyance. Its shells, 
bursting with remarkable precision, had become fatally effec- 
tive. When the charging line had about half covered the 
distance between its starting-point and the enemy's position, the 
fire was so destructive that an artillery movement seemed essen- 
tial for its diversion. Promptly a battery galloped to position 
between the main lines of the two armies, directly in rear of 
Meagher's advance. It was unlimbered and in action in a trice. 
Out in the open plain, in full view, with a perfect range, and 



— 46 - 

almost upon a dead level, it was an assignment of unusually- 
severe exposure. In a moment it was wholly obscured ; lim- 
bers, pieces, caissons, men and horses were entirely lost in the 
impenetrable clouds of dust and smoke that rose about it. 
Every shot, solid or explosive, was planted right within its 
midst, just where the expert gunnery controlling the opposing 
battery intended it should be. It was silenced instantly, lim- 
bered and withdrawn with an alacrity only equalled by the 
commendable enterprise with which it assumed its perilous 
task. Lashing, spurring and belaboring the startled animals, 
the remnants emerged from the smoky obscurity, and still fol- 
lowed by a few parting malignant shots they found the nearest 
convenient cover for rest and repairs. It had, however, fairly 
accomplished its purpose and diverted the fire for the moment 
from the soldiers who had so fearfully borne its brunt. 

The day was waning, but the battle-roar continued until total 
darkness stopped the strife. It was evident, though the enemy 
still maintained, generally, the lines it held from the beginning, 
that the advantage had been with the Union forces, and that 
their adversaries had been severely worsted. Wherever the 
attack had been pressed with vigor, they had been much dis- 
comfited and forced to yield their ground. Such was the 
assurance of success, that our soldiers rested comfortably 
through the night in the blissful belief that they had won the 
day. The regiment did not become actively engaged, but re- 
mained all day in support of the battery, and bivouacked on the 
same ground it occupied in the morning. 

On the morning of the 1 8th the command was moved off 
some miles towards the left, in the direction where Burnside 
had made the desperate fight for the stone bridge, the story of 
which, so often told with thrilling effect in pamphlet and essay, 
has crowned its grand heroism with the laurels it so justly 
deserves. 

Some of the route was over a portion of the field where the 
battle had waged fiercely. The unburied dead lay around. 
Many of the bodies, struck by the heavier missiles, were horri- 



— 47 — 

bly torn and mangled. There was a leg, with its ragged, 
bloody edges, severed near the thigh, evidently by a solid shot ; 
another, in its garment, separated from its unseen trunk, lying 
in a fence-corner. By a broken-down frame building, that had 
been a field hospital, arms and legs, hurriedly amputated, were 
scattered here and there. 

Down the slope of the road, approaching the bridge, the 
numbers of the slain increased ; abandoned muskets and car- 
tridge-boxes lay everywhere, and the ground, furrowed and 
upturned by shot and shell, showed the heavy work of the 
enemy's guns. Just at the entrance of the bridge a man lay 
stretched upon his back, unconscious, but moaning, a minnie- 
ball imbedded in his forehead. 

These evidences of mortal combat were to become familiar. 
Seen in such a volume of horrors, so soon away from peaceful 
homes, the impressive silence with which the sights were 
viewed was conclusive that the men had a full appreciation of 
their early realization of the terrors of a battle-field. 

The bridge was of stone, with three arches, of the pattern 
of such country structures so usual in Pennsylvania and 
Maryland. Upon the thither side the bodies of the dead Con- 
federates showed that they, too, had received some punish- 
ment. On the right bank of the creek, which was that occu- 
pied by the enemy, the heights rose abruptly, deflecting but lit- 
tle from a true perpendicular. Between their base and the 
creek there was but width sufficient for a wagon roadway. 
With these heights manned by the enemy and the main road- 
way over the bridge wholly under his control, the attempt to 
carry it seemed but desperation, and its success almost miracu- 
lous. Such were the conclusions these untried soldiers of ours 
reached when they first saw the ground and knew of the work 
of the previous day. 

Debouching from the bridge, the narrow roadway beneath 
the heights leads both up and down the stream, along which 
the brigade at once deployed, and without delay clambered the 
bluff, that the line might be established along the upper edge. 



-- 4 8 - 

It was a position of much personal discomfort, as the men 
had literally to hang to bush or bough, or rest on stones, to hold 
their places. The ascent was so steep that in many instances 
the officers were forced to use their swords and the men their 
bayonets to better secure their foothold. A stake and rider 
fence ran along the bluff but a short distance from the edge, 
bordering the fields and open country between the heights and 
the town of Sharpsburg, in full view and within easy rifle- 
range. The preservation of this fence on ground occupied for 
full twenty-four hours, first by one side and then by the other, 
was evidence that they had been more than usually employed 
with most important work. The straggling houses upon the 
edge of the town were filled with the enemy's sharpshooters, 
who, aware that the bluff was occupied, kept up an incessant 
firing. The exposure of a single individual drew it with direct 
aim. He was rewarded for his temerity by a disabling shot or 
returned ignominiously to his cover. 

There was an angle in the fence grown about with shrub and 
bush, however, which afforded safe concealment and full ob- 
servation. A careful reconnoissance from this point discovered 
a house, well in advance of the others and farther out of the 
town, where shingles had been removed from its roof, and 
from which, through the holes, evidently came the most per- 
sistent and annoying shooting. The enemy inside seemed to 
have cutely drawn their rifles so far in under the roof, rest- 
ing them upon the rafters, that the smoke was actually re- 
tained within the building. They had been engaged so long 
it probably became stifling, and had caused a window to be 
opened below for freer ventilation. The officer who had been 
cautiously and suspiciously watching this house from the place 
of concealment in the fence-angle, still closely scrutinizing it, 
noticed, as he believed, smoke delicately twirling from this open 
window. To be convinced his conclusions were well-founded, 
he directed several shots to be fired at the roof. This continued 
for a few moments, and then a number of the men moving to 
the top of the hill delivered several volleys. For the time the 



— 49 — 

enemy's fire was silenced, but it was still doubted whether the 
rebels could affect such Yankee aptitude as to so effectually 
conceal themselves and their shots. A disaster, however, which 
shortly followed, was conclusive in the matter. 

About this time General Burnside, entirely alone, unattended 
by staff-officer or orderly, rode along the narrow road that ran 
by the side of the creek. General Burnside's face was of that 
fresh, inviting nature that, even with his distinguished rank, 




seemingly permitted interrogation. Prompted by his kindly 
look, some one inquired : " General, are there any rebels still 
about here?" probably more for something to say than any- 
thing else, as it had been quite apparent that at least a few were 
yet around. " Still about ? Why, there are thousands of them 
just over the hill, and they will be coming for you pretty 
soon." And then he continued, laughingly: "In the mean- 
time I am going to get out of this, as it is no place for me — I 
don't want to see any more of them ; " and so, with another 
4 



— 5o — 

hearty laugh, generous good-bye, and kindly wave of the hand, 
he rode away. The presence of a general officer with such high 
command, particularly away out in the front, is always an occa- 
sion for much animation; but the general's gentle salutation 
and happy, laughing reply, and the troops not at all of his com- 
mand, was a moment for special gratification. 

The doubt as to the character of the occupants of the house 
where the shingles had disappeared from the roof, and the pur- 
pose of their occupancy, was now wholly removed. Corporal 
Sanford, of Company E, not yet convinced, mounted the fence 
either for more perfect observation or to tempt an expert 
marksman. His illusion or temerity cost him dearly. A shot 
went crashing through his thigh, shattering the bone; amputa- 
tion immediately followed, and his permanent disability speedily 
terminated his soldier-days. This was our first casualty. 

This event started the enemy to renewed activity, and they 
kept up such a lively fusilade until nightfall that the more de- 
sirable quarters were well down under the protection of the 
bluff. The bickering fire which had continued most of the day, 
when darkness set in grew wicked and incessant. Upon the 
right it grew so in volume as to assume almost battle propor- 
tions. A determined attack in force was anticipated, and the 
watchful care needed to meet it caused the hours of the night 
to pass in wearisome anxiety. In fact, a short distance to our 
immediate right a direct assault with decided persistency re- 
sulted in gathering in some hundred of the pickets. Just be- 
fore dawn, without any gradual subsidence, the firing ceased 
suddenly and abruptly. 

When day broke on the 19th the purpose of the continuous 
fusillade was quite apparent. The enemy had entirely with- 
drawn, using the firing to conceal and the darkness to cover 
the movement. He had disappeared from the north of the 
Potomac, and the invasion of Maryland was a failure. 

Details were made from the regiment to carry off the 
wounded, who had been lying on the ground between the 
Union and Confederate lines for twenty-four hours, without 



— 5i — 

water, save what a few of them had caught in their rubber 
blankets during a shower. One of the men whom they found 
had been wounded through the fleshy part of both thighs. He 
belonged to a Connecticut regiment. He was carried to a large 
farm-house in the neighborhood, which the surgeons were using 
as a hospital. As they were about to take him into the house 
he said : " No, boys ; lay me down out here ; there are others 
wounded worse than I am — take them inside." 

The regiment moved up onto the plain, and the colonel, 
utilizing every moment of leisure, exercised the command for 
some time in battalion manoeuvres. Singularly, his attention 
was devoted almost exclusively to the " on right by file into line," 
a practice soon to be tested in actual combat with fatal effect. 

If the improved tactics, uniting the fours, ignoring the right 
and left, dispensing with the positive adhesion to front and rear, 
and the consequent absolute dependence upon the slow and 
dilatory " on right by file into line " had not been necessitated, 
it is quite questionable whether, with these new tactics, the 
fatalities might not have been materially reduced or possibly 
every life been saved. 

The drill had not concluded when, called to again resume 
the march, the column moved off to and through Sharpsburg. 
Whether our brigade was the first of the Union troops to enter 
the town after the enemy had abandoned it, was not definitely 
determined. The reception that awaited them would indicate 
they were. Demonstrations of joy and hearty greetings re- 
sounded everywhere. Men, women and children vied with 
each other in according a generous welcome. Such a greeting 
was a fitting rebuke to the flaming proclamation that the mis- 
sion of the Army of Northern Virginia was to liberate the citi- 
zens of Maryland from the thraldom of the Union of the States, 
and conclusive that, in this locality at least, there was no sym- 
pathy with such a purpose. 

The town is a pretty little hamlet of some thousand people, 
beautifully located a few miles from the Potomac, overlooking 
the Antietam. It contained its proper complement of stores 



— 52 — 

and churches, but all identity of the purposes for which these 
buildings had been used was lost; everything had been 
absorbed for the moment in one universal hospital. Houses 
and out-buildings were filled, and lawns and gardens covered 
with the Confederate wounded. Nor were these suffering men 
the only reminder of the great battle that had ended. Few 
were the houses that had not been pierced by solid shot 
or shell. One of the inhabitants said that he and his family 
were about to sit down at the dinner-table, when a solid shot 
crashed through the wall, and, falling on the table, spoiled the 




dinner and the dishes, and, he added, quaintly, "also our 
appetites." 

Passing beyond the town the regiment halted before noon 
near the Potomac, in the vicinity of Blackford's Ford. A fringe 
of timber hid the river and concealed the troops from the 
enemy, who, with his batteries planted on the bluffs on the 
other side, occasionally dropped a few shells. Towards night 
they ceased their fire, leaving their guns still in position, 
unsupported and even without their own battery-men. It 
seemed a fitting opportunity to effect a capture, and the 
corps-commander called for one hundred volunteers from each 
regiment of the brigade to carry out the design. The response 



— 53 — 

from the 118th was so hearty, it was more difficult to select 
from the volunteers than it would have been to order a detail. 
Captain Ricketts was assigned to the command, and the detach- 
ment marched off. to report to General Griffin, who had been 
placed in charge of the movement. They returned about mid- 
night, having been eminently successful in the enterprise. 
Five pieces of artillery and some of their appurtenances were 
taken, one of which was a gun of a regular battery which had 
been lost at the First Bull Run. 

The halt and rest continued through the night, and the days 
and doings of " Antietam " were ended. 




CHAPTER III. 

SHEPHERDSTOWN. 

BLACKFORD'S FORD crosses the Potomac just below 
the breast of an old mill-dam. It bears the name of a 
family who for several generations occupied the residence and 
owned the lands in the immedjate vicinity. Above the dam 
three lonely piers marked the site of the bridge that formerly 
spanned the stream, and had been the highway leading to Shep- 
herdstown and Martinsburg. On the Virginia side the ford 
road runs along the lower extremity of a high bluff off into 
the country, and another extends along the foot of the bluff, 
between it and the river, in the direction of Shepherdstown. 
The bluff rises precipitously, is almost perpendicular, and is 
dotted with boulders and a stunted growth of timber. The 
roadway, a short distance from the Ford, passes a gap or 
ravine, obstructed and concealed by underbrush and passable 
with difficulty. Two gate-posts marked its entrance, indicating 
it as an abandoned private lane. From the ravine, a path led 
up to the high table-land above. Along the face of the bluff, 
near the glen, were several kilns or arches, used for the burning 
of lime. The river road passes over the kilns, the bluff still, 
as it passes over them, continuing to rise precipitately. Another 
road passes down from the bluff around and in front of the 
kilns. 

The dam-breast, some ten feet wide, had been long neglected, 
many of the planks had rotted away or been removed, and 
water trickled through numerous crevices. The outer face, 
sloping to its base, was covered with a slippery green slime. 
On the Virginia side, some twenty feet had been left for a fish- 
way, through which flowed a rapid current. The river was 

(54) 



— 55 — 

low, and the fish-way easily fordable. Along the river shore, 
on the Maryland side, ran the Chesapeake and Ohio canal. 

On the morning of the 20th of September Major-General 
Fitz-John Porter was ordered to- send two divisions over the 
river to co-operate with a cavalry advance, and scour the 
country in the direction of Charlestown and Shepherdstown. 
In obedience to these instructions, Sykes, with his division, 
composed of two brigades of regulars and one of volunteers, 




THE DAM AT SHEPHERDSTOWN. 

was directed to proceed in the direction of Charlestown, and 
Morrell, with Barnes's brigade leading, in the direction of 
Shepherdstown. The cavalry did not, however, reach the 
Virginia side until Sykes's pickets were in close proximity to 
the advancing foe. 

Sykes crossed the river early in the morning, and Lovell's 
2d (regulars) Brigade skirmishers, advancing a mile into the 
country, soon developed the enemy, some three thousand 



- 56 

strong, approaching with artillery. Warren's 3d Brigade was 
immediately thrown over in support and formed on Lovell's 
left, Lovell having meanwhile been directed to fall back- 
slowly; and Barnes's brigade, arriving at the same time, on its 
road to Shepherdstown, was directed to connect with Lovell's 
right. The other brigades of Morrell's division did not cross. 
At the request of General Sykes, Barnes suspended his move- 
ment towards Shepherdstown, and supported Sykes. His 
brigade was deployed under the bluffs. None of his regiments 
reached the summit, except the 118th. 

General Sykes, aware "that the Virginia side of the river 
was no place for troops, until a proper reconnoissance had 
been made, and reports from citizens indicating the belief that 
a large force of the enemy was moving upon us" (him),* com- 
municated his opinion to General Porter, who, agreeing with 
him, directed the immediate re-crossing of the troops. 

The withdrawal actually began before the whole of Barnes's 
brigade was over the stream. The regulars and all of his 
brigade, except the 11 8th, successfully accomplished their 
retreat with but slight, if any, loss. Colonel Barnes, in his 
official report, unfairly, if that be not too mild a term, states the 
severe loss attending the affair as having fallen generally on all 
the regiments of his brigade, when, in fact, it fell entirely on 
the ii<Stli Pennsylvania, which alone of all his regiments was 
actually engaged. The disaster which befell it, in this its fust 
battle, has not, heretofore, been fully or fairly related. It is the 
purpose of this chapter to faithfully unfold it.f 

The day was bright and clear. The sun shone with mellow 

* General Sykes' offii ial report of the action, 

fMajoi General Fitz-John Porter, in his report of the fight al Shepherdstown, 

says: ",TJnder cover of our guns the whole command ie. ro \,ed with little injury, 
except tlie \\%th Pennsylvania Volunteers, a small portion of which became con 

fused early in the action. 'I In ii aim ( pinions Knfiehl lilies) were so defective 
thai little injury could be inllieted hy them upon the enemy. Many of this regi- 
ment, new in service, volunteered the previous evening, and formed part of the 

attacking party who gallantly crossed the river to secure the enemy's artillery. 
They have earned a good name, which their losses have not diminished" — [The 
italics are the author's.] 



— 57 — 

Autumn radiance. Dew glistened on grass and leaf, and the 
old Potomac, calm and placid as if it had never known strife, 
visible for a considerable distance, swept on its course tranquilly. 
The landscape, varied with its valley and hillside, its meadows 
and woodlands, sprinkled with barn, house and garden, was 
peacefully picturesque in the refreshing sunlight of a soft 
September morning. There were no harbingers that by noon- 
day the regiment should suffer casualties, severer for a single 
combat than probably evor fell to the lot of soldiers, even in 
the heaviest battles of the war. 

An early breakfast was interrupted by orders to move. The 
meal completed, the brigade started in the direction of the 
river. With a few hurried personal preparations, some of the 
men removing their shoes and stockings, the column at 9 a. m. 
began the passage of the stream at Blackford's Ford. There 
was a good deal of pleasant shouting as the troops splashed 
through the stream, and roars of laughter greeted those who, 
less fortunate than their fellows, stumbled and fell headlong 
into the water. 

Just before the head of the column entered the ford, a 
brigade of Sykes's regulars appeared upon the thither side, 
marching back again from the same reconnoissance with which 
Barnes's movement was intended to generally co-operate. 
The columns passed each other midway in the river. The 
regulars gave the information that there was " no enemy in 
sight." * It was evidently twittingly said to encourage the 
volunteers, whom they held in no very high esteem, for at that 
time their rear skirmishers were actually engaged. 

Though it was clear that the situation was a grave one, yet 
the 1 1 8th Pennsylvania was permitted to mount the cliff with 
its front entirely uncovered. No skirmish-line protected its 
advance until its right company was detached, and when it 
was deployed the enemy were pressing so hard that its de- 

*Comrade M. Shaughenessy, of Posl 14, G. A. R., Department of Pennsylvania, 
who, at that time was an enlisted man of Battery C, 3rd Artillery — known as 
Gibson's battery — was one of those who twittingly gave this information. 



- 58 - 




— 59 — 

ployment answered no purpose. The commanding officer had 
a right to expect that, thrown out in a direction where an en- 
gagement was imminent, he would find himself at least covered 
by skirmishers well out in front of him. 

The similar surroundings — high bluffs in front, a wide river 
in the rear — recalled the Ball's Bluff disaster vividly. 

The brigade took the road that followed the base of the 
bluffs ; and, as the head of the regiment approached the ravine 
or glen which led to the summit, a staff-officer dashed up hur- 
riedly to Colonel Barnes, who rode at the time beside Colonel 
Prevost, and reported the enemy approaching in heavy force. 
Some vigorous action being instantly necessary, turning to 
Colonel Prevost, Colonel Barnes said : " Can you get your 
regiment on the top of the cliff? " " I will try, sir," was the 
prompt reply, and dismounting, he conducted the head of his 
column into the narrow, unfrequented path that led through 
the glen. 

At this time not more than one-third of the regiment were 
across the river. General Barnes rode into the water and said 
to them : " Men, hurry up — you are wanted on top of the hill." 
In a few moments they were all across. As they climbed the 
hill by the narrow path, they found, near the top, a battery 
wagon, with its four horses still in harness, that by some mis- 
chance had fallen from the path, which was here just wide 
enough for it. It had caught on some trees and brush and 
hung between the path and the bottom of the ravine. The 
horses, tired of rearing and prancing, were quivering and suf- 
fering from their vain attempts to extricate themselves. Ricketts, 
noble, generous soul, fated to be a victim in the coming con- 
test, could not restrain his impetuous humanity, and jumping 
from the ranks he cut the traces of the struggling animals and 
released them from their peril. The wagon had evidently be- 
longed to a Confederate battery. 

From the top of the bluff it was open country for a mile or 
more, with occasional cornfields ; then the fields changed to 
forest, and a wide belt of timber skirted the open lands. Farm- 



— 6o — 

house, barn and hay-stack dotted the plain, and to the right in 
the distance were the roofs and spires of Shepherdstown. 

The report of the staff-officer that the enemy were approach- 
ing- in force met with ocular confirmation. In front of the tim- 
ber the musket-barrels of a division, massed in battalion col- 
umns, gleamed and glistened in the sunlight. To the right, 
not half a mile away, a whole brigade was sweeping down with 
steady tread, its skirmishers, well in advance, moving with 
firm front ; and ere the head of the regimental column had 
scarce appeared upon the bluff, they opened a desultory, strag- 
gling fire. 

The teachings of the battalion-drill near Sharpsburg on the 
day previous now had practical application. In tones indica- 
tive of an urgency that demanded speedy execution, the voice 
of the colonel rang out with clear deliberation : " On right by 
file into line." Company E, with Lieutenants Hunterson and 
Lewis, was promptly deployed as a skirmish-line. Advancing 
but a short distance, it was soon severely engaged, and, unable 
to resist the heavy pressure, very shortly fell back upon the 
main line. 

At this point Lieutenant Davis, the acting assistant adjutant- 
general of the brigade, on his way to the right to withdraw 
other regiments specially assigned to him to retire, observing 
that the 118th was making no movement to withdraw, but ac- 
tually becoming engaged, called up the ravine to Lieutenant 
Kelly, the officer nearest him, to " tell Colonel Prcvost, Colonel 
Barnes directs that he withdraw his regiment at once." The 
duty of communicating the order to the 1 1 8th to withdraw had 
been delegated to an orderly, a duty which he appears never to 
have discharged. This information Kelly promptly communi- 
cated to his captain, Bankson, who directed him to immediately 
report it to Colonel Prevost. He went along the line, and find- 
ing the colonel in front of the centre — the left was not yet in 
place — advised him of what he had personally been told. 

" From whom did you say you heard this ? " inquired the 
colonel. 



— 6i — 

" From Lieutenant Davis, of the staff of Colonel Barnes," re- 
plied Kelly. 

" I do not receive orders in that way," was the colonel's sharp 
reply ; " if Colonel Barnes has any order to give me, let his aid 
come to me," and he continued to conduct the formation, the 
business he was engaged in when Kelly interrupted him. 

The formation had been completed only to the colors when 
the action commenced in earnest. " Before one-half the regi- 
ment had gotten into line, with the river in our rear, the enemy 
began to fire upon us, advancing by battalions in all direc- 
tions."* From the beginning the fire of the enemy was tre- 
mendous ; the rush of bullets was like a whirlwind. The 
slaughter was appalling; men dropped by the dozens. 

Until the alignement was fully perfected from the colors to the 
left, as the men came into their places under fire some confusion 
followed, but when the line was completely established the behav- 
ior was gallant, orders were obeyed with alacrity, and the sol- 
diers stood up handsomely against a dozen times their number. 

About this time it became lamentably apparent that the 
muskets were in no fit condition for battle. The Enfield rifle, 
with which the regiment was originally armed, was at its best 
a most defective weapon, and of a decidedly unreliable pattern. 
Some of the weapons were too weak to explode the cap. This 
defect was at first unnoticed in the excitement ; cartridge after 
cartridge was rammed into the barrel under the belief that each 
had been discharged, until they nearly filled the piece to the 
muzzle. A few charged cartridge with the bullet down and 
exploded cap after cap in a vain attempt to fire. Others, after 
a few shots, with pieces foul and ramrods jammed, instead of 
seizing the abandoned ones, crowded about the field-officers 
anxiously inquiring what they should do, while many, calm and 
free from excitement, were coolly seated upon the ground pick- 
ing the nipple to clear the vent. 

Private Joseph Mehan thus quaintly describes the situation 

* Colonel Prevost's official report. 



— 62 — 

at this time : " I had broken the nipple of my gun and had 
picked up another gun lying near me, but, as with the first one, 
I had great trouble in getting it to go off. It made me very 
angry. I felt that I would give all the world to be able to 
shoot the advancing foe. I had fired but about a half-dozen 
shots, where as many again could have been got off had the 
guns been good for anything. I had taken a pin out and 
cleaned the nipple, and had raised my rifle for a shot, when I 
felt what seemed like a blow with a heavy fist on my left 
shoulder from behind. I did not realize at first that I was shot, 
feeling no particular pain, but my almost useless arm soon told 
me what it was." 

In Colonel Prevost's official report he states : " We returned 
their fire as fast as possible, but soon found that our Enfield 
rifles were so defective that quite one-fourth of them would not 
explode the caps. Notwithstanding this discouraging circum- 
stance men and officers behaved with great bravery." 

Such was the regiment put upon this hill-top to do battle 
against the veterans of A. P. Hill and Stonewall Jackson. 
With but twenty days' experience in the field ; with no oppor- 
tunity for drill or instruction, it bravely withstood their on- 
slaught, and with lines intact, except where a murderous 
slaughter had thinned them, valiantly battled for over half an 
hour against those overwhelming and tremendous odds. Nor 
did it yield until the punishment it inflicted was largely 
commensurate with what, great as it was, it had itself re- 
ceived. 

" Nine or ten Confederate brigades took part in this affair, 
and the Confederates seem to believe that it ended with ' an 
appalling scene of the destruction of human life.' Jackson, 
whose words these are, must have been imposed upon by 
A. P. Hill, who had charge of the operation, and whose report 
contains these assertions : ' Then commenced the most terrible 
slaughter that this war has yet witnessed. The broad surface 
of the Potomac was blue with the floating bodies of our 
foe. But few escaped to tell the tale. By their own account 



- 63 - 

they lost 3,000 men killed and drowned from one brigade 
alone.'* 

" ' Or art thou drunk with wine, Sir Knight? 
Or art thyself beside ? ' 

"The reader with a taste for figures will observe that this tale 
of deaths in one brigade alone wants only ten of being a thou- 
sand more than all the men killed in the Army of the Potomac 
on the 16th and 17th of September."! 

The enemy had now succeeded in pressing as close to the 
front as fifty yards, % and the hot fire at such close range was 
increasing the casualties with frightful fatality. At the same 
moment he succeeded in developing a regiment across the 
ravine, completely covering the entire right. The two right 
companies, under the immediate supervision of the colonel, 
promptly changed direction by the right flank and gallantly 
checked the manoeuvre. This movement, mistaken by the 
hard-pressed centre for a withdrawal, induced it to break tem- 
porarily, and with the colors in the advance move in some dis- 
order to the rear. Colonel Prevost caught the disorder in time 
to promptly check it. Heroically seizing the standard from 
the hands of the color-sergeant and waving it defiantly, he 
brought the centre back again to the conflict and completely 
restored the alignement. He was still waving the flag in defi- 
ance at the enemy when a musket-ball shattered his shoulder- 
blade and he was borne to the rear by Corporal Francis Daley, 
of Company E. The severity of his wound forced him to 
withdraw entirely from the action. 

The command now devolved upon Lieutenant-Colonel 
Gwyn, to whom the colonel, as he passed him in retiring, 
formally turned it over. As he withdrew the enemy's lines 
developed in increased strength. His red cross battle-flags 
were waving in every direction to the front, and the air was 



* He reported his own loss as 261. 
-J- Palfrey's "Antietam," page 129. 
J Colonel Prevost's official report of the action. 



- 64 - 

riant with his peculiar, piercing, penetrating yells. In 
restoring the line it had been advanced somewhat, and the 
engagement was thus brought to Still closer quarters. The 
horrors of the battle were intensified. The dead and wounded 
rapidly increased in numbers; the scene was an awful one. 
Shouts, cheers and orders wire drowned in the roar of musketry 
and the defiant yells of the foe, who, confident in their over- 
whelming strength, were sure those who still survived would 
surrender. 

After Colonel Prevost had passed through the ravine, he met 
( lolone! Barnes on the road by the river. To prevent mistakes 
Colonel Barnes was following up the orderly whom he had di- 
rected to carry the orders to " retire." It was a fatal interval 
between the attempt to prevent mistakes and what had been a 
most grievous one. 

"Where is your regiment?" Colonel Barnes earnestly in- 
quired. 

" Fighting desperately on the top of the hill, sir, where you 
placed it," was the colonel's response. 

" Why, I sent you orders to retire in good order." 

" I never received them, sir," he replied, "and I am sorry I 
am too seriously wounded to take them off, for they are suffer- 
ing dreadfully." 

" 1 will do so myself," replied Colonel Barnes, and hurried 
away to execute his purpose. 

John Siner, oi Company C, stated after the fight that while 
he was retiring through the ravine, wounded in the arm, he- 
met a mounted staff-officer, who, inquiring the whereabouts of 
his colonel, was told by him he was on the bluff fighting with 
his regiment. "Go tell him," said he, "to retreat in good 
order, by order of Colonel Barnes." The- kind-hearted fellow, 
considerate for the welfare of his companions, assumed to do 
the duty which the staff-officer so improperly delegated to 
him, and returned to the field to execute his mission. He 
delivered his message to the first officer he met, but by the 
time he had communicated it, the regiment had already 



- 65 - 



broken, and was making the best of its way back to the riv^r. 
For his pains, Siner was again wounded in the leg, but ulti- 
mately managed to escape capture. 

Just as Colonel Gwyn assumed the direction of the fight, a 
rout was imminent. To steady the line and strengthen its 
weakening confidence, he gave the orders to fix bayonets. To 
those who heard it, it had something of the desired effect, but 
in the increasing confusion and unsteadiness it was heard by 
but few. Where it was heard, it was promptly obeyed. 

The officers were untiring and persistent in their efforts to 
hold their men together. At this critical moment, Captain 
Courtland Saunders and Lieutenant J. Mora Moss were in- 
stantly killed, the former with 
a musket-ball through the 
head, and the latter with one 
through the heart. 

Here, too, Captain Ricketts 
fell while in the act of dis- 
charging his pistol. Stagger- 
ing, he was saved from falling 
by Private William L. Gabe, 
who started to assist him to 
the rear. 

" Leave me, Gabe," said the 
captain, "and save yourself." 

But the brave, generous Gabe would not desist, and again 
both were shot down together, Gabe wounded, and this time 
the captain killed. As he fell to the ground he cried, in agony: 

" My God ! I am shot by my own men." 

" Not so," said Gabe, " but by the ' rebs,' who are right on 
top of us." 

And then the enemy's line swept over them, and the captain 
lived just long enough to know that he was mistaken. 

The enemy's stragglers, who .followed his advancing lines, 
stooped over the prostrate body of Ricketts and, against the 
earnest protest of the wounded Gabe, who still zealously clung 
5 




LIEUTENANT J. MORA MOSS. 



66 — 



to the body of his fallen chief, proceeded to rifle his pockets. 
They took his watch, diary, money and everything belonging 
to him, appropriated his sword to their own use, and stole his 
coat, vest and boots. The diary, the short resume of his few 
days' service, they conceived of no use, and considerately re- 
turned it to Gabe. 

Ricketts was a strong man. His energies were untiring, his 
sense of duty supreme. He had had a military training ; was 
skilful as a tactician. What he knew, he knew thoroughly. He 
had fully grasped the principles of his teachings and was apt 
and ready in their application. His generous sympathy was 
evidenced by his readiness to relieve the suffering horses, and 

his heroic death attested his 
eminent courage. Fitted for 
an advancement which the 
casualties of war would have 
soon brought him, he was 
destined thus early in his ca- 
reer for the most honorable 
of all the soldier's epitaphs : 
" killed in action." 

First Lieutenant William M. 
McKeen was about this time 
in the action also most seri- 
ously wounded. A shot passed 
through his body involving a vital organ. His life was for a 
long time despaired of. He recovered subsequently, however, 
to again take a prominent place in the business community, 
but was never afterwards fit for the field. Several years 
subsequent to the war his injuries eventually resulted in his 
death. 

The order to retire, which, with the thickening disasters, had 
been long hoped for, came at last. The welcome direction, 
communicated through the loud voice of Adjutant James P. 
Perot, was repeated hurriedly all along the line. The scene 
that followed almost beggars description. The brave men who 




CAPTAIN RICKETTS. 



-6; - 

had contended so manfully against these frightful odds broke 
in wild confusion for the river. Perot, unable from an injury 
in early life to keep pace with the rapidly retiring soldiers, re- 
mained almost alone upon the bluff. True to the instincts of a 
genuine courage, he stood erect facing the foe, with his pistol 
resting on his left forearm, emptying it rapidly of all the loads 
he had left, when he was severely wounded and ultimately fell 
into the hands of the enemy. Lieutenant Charles H. Hand, 
who afterwards succeeded him as adjutant, and a number of 
men were captured with him. 

The greater part of the regiment made furiously for the 
ravine, down which they dashed precipitately. Since the march 
up, a tree, in a way never accounted for, had fallen across the 
path. This materially obstructed the retreat. Over and under 
it the now thoroughly demoralized crowd jostled and pushed 
each other, whilst, meanwhile, the enemy, having reached the 
edge of the bluff, poured upon them a fatal and disastrous 
plunging fire. The slaughter was fearful ; men were shot as 
they climbed over the tree, and their bodies suspended from 
the branches were afterwards plainly visible from the other side 
of the river. 

Others, who avoided the route by the ravine, driven head- 
long over the bluff, were seriously injured or killed outright. 
Among these was Captain Courtney O'Callaghan, who, badly 
disabled, was never again fitted for active field-service. 

An old abandoned mill stood upon the ford road, at the 
base of the cliff. It completely commanded the ford and the 
dam-breast. When the last of the fugitives had disappeared 
from the bluff, the enemy crowded the doors, windows and 
roof and poured their relentless, persecuting fire upon those 
who had taken to the water. Numbers, observing the telling 
effect of the fire upon those who had essayed to the venture of 
crossing, huddled together and crowded each other in the 
arches at the base of the bluff; whilst others, hoping to escape 
the fatal effect of the avenging bullets, took to deeper water and 
crossed where the stream was deep enough to cover the entire 
body and leave the head alone exposed. 



— 68 — 

It was here that Lieutenant Lewis, having previously had 
his pistol-holster shot away and a musket-ball through the 
sleeve and another through the skirt of his coat, as he was taking 
to the water at the breast of the dam, was severely wounded 
and sent headlong into the stream. Regaining his feet, he 
ultimately succeeded, with the assistance of Private Patrick 
Nicholas, in making his way across without other mishap. 

In the midst of the rout and confusion the colors had been 
borne to the water's edge near the dam-breast. At the sight 
of the terrible fatality attending those preceding him the bearer 
hesitated to cross. Time was invaluable ; the least delay would 
place the standard in hopeless jeopardy. Major Herring was 
opportunely at hand. He seized the staff and placing it in the 
custody of Private William Hummell, of D, directed him to 
enter the stream. Covering the soldier's body with his own, 
with the color unfurled and waving with daring taunt, as if 
defying the enemy to attempt its capture, he successfully made 
the Maryland shore. A conspicuous mark, it drew towards it 
a fire resentfully wicked, but both the major and Hummell 
escaped unscathed. 

At this moment a battery from the Maryland side opened 
heavily. The practice was shameful. The fuses, too short, 
sent the terrible missiles into the disorganized mass fleeing in 
disorder before the serious punishment of the enemy's musketry. 
It was a painful ordeal, to be met in their effort to escape an 
impending peril by another equally terrible. Shell after shell, 
as if directly aimed, went thundering into the arches, bursting 
and tearing to pieces ten or twelve of those who had crowded 
there for cover. A cry and wail of horror went up, plainly 
heard above the din and roar of battle. Waving handkerchiefs 
fixed to ramrods, they endeavored by their signals to warn 
the gunners to desist, but to no avail; the fatal work continued. 
Hoping for better treatment, numbers turned with their white 
insignia of truce towards the enemy and, again ascending to 
the hill-top, surrendered. The artillerists continued to pound 
away with an ardor indicative of satisfaction, until Captain B. F. 



6p- 



Fisher and Lieutenant L. R. Fortescue, two officers of the 
Signal Corps, fortunately detected, with the aid of their long- 
range telescopes, the damage inflicted, when lengthened fuses 
and better practice brought their aim more directly towards the 
accomplishment of its intended purpose. 

The dam-breast was still crowded, and here and there across 
it were the dead, wounded and dying. As the last of the 
survivors were nearing the Maryland shore, Berdan's Sharp- 
shooters appeared. Deploying hurriedly in the bed of the canal, 
shouting loudly to those still exposed to seek what cover they 
could, they opened vigorously with their usual unerring and 
effective aim and soon almost 
entirely cleared the other 
bank. Those who had not 
yet fully accomplished the en- 
tire journey across were thus 
enabled to complete it in 
comparative safety. As an 
officer among the last to cross 
picked his way over the loose 
and broken boards, the over- 
coat that had been fastened 
around his shoulders by a 
faithful member of his com- 
pany was firmly grasped by a poor, wounded fellow, who in pit- 
eous tones called out : " Help me, captain ; for God's sake don't 
leave me here." Without stopping, he unfastened the coat and 
left it in the soldier's death-grip, saying he couldn't help him 
then, but would send after him as soon as he could ; but before 
the captain reached the other side the man's life had fled. 

Ephraim Layman, of I, had escaped from the bluff uninjured. 
While hurrying along the edge of the river he was shot through 
the body and fell with his feet in the water. He lay in the 
same position until the following afternoon, when, under the 
flag of truce, he was removed to the Maryland side and subse- 
quently taken to the hospital at Sharpsburg. There, a few 




LIEUTENANT J. RUDHALL WHITE. 






— 70 — 

hours after the ball had been extracted, he expired. Layman 
had not yet reached his majority. He was of excellent family, 
and enlisted from motives of the purest patriotism. His early 
training, earnest purpose and firm determination to be foremost 
in answer to all demands of duty, were indicative of a promis- 
ing future. 

One of the saddest incidents of this disastrous day happened 
after the action was really over. Lieutenant J. Rudhall White 
had passed through the desperate dangers of the contest and 
had safely landed upon the Maryland shore. As he reached 
the top of the river-bank he stopped and said : " Thank God ! 
I am over at last." His halt attracted attention and a musket- 
ball, doubtless directly aimed from the other side by an ex- 
perienced marksman, ploughed through his bowels. The 
wound was almost instantly fatal ; he died as he was being 
borne away. 

White was a handsome, soldierly young man of scarce twenty 
summers. A native of Warrenton, Virginia, at the breaking 
out of the war he was a young lieutenant in the Black Horse 
Cavalry, a command subsequently famous in all the campaigns 
of Virginia. Differing in sentiments from his friends and his 
family, sacrificing the ties of home and friendship, he deter- 
mined to defend his convictions with his sword. Firm in his 
belief that the unrighteous attempt to disrupt the Government 
should be suppressed, imbued with the purest and highest 
patriotism, he sought service in the Union army. Instinctively 
a soldier from principle, his sad and early death interrupted a 
career that promised the brightest prospects. His short ser- 
vice had secured him the confidence of his superiors and the 
respect of his soldiers. 

The mortality which attended the mess of Ricketts, Moss, 
White, McKeen and West was singular. They had all been 
associated as members of Company D of the Gray Reserves, 
and hence grouped themselves for the closest associations after 
they took the field. Ricketts, Moss and White were killed 
outright. McKeen's death subsequently resulted from his 



— 7i — 

wounds, and West, who now alone survives, escaped a very 
close shot. A musket-ball cut his coat across the stomach, 
severing the garment as if by a knife, the lower flap falling to 
his knee. 

The fight was a sad and purposeless affair, with a most dis- 
astrous and fatal termination. Yet it secured for the regiment 
a reputation among its new associates for staying qualities 
which, maintaining it thoroughly, as it did, down to the very 
end, bore most excellent fruits. 

Experienced soldiers, jealous of their hard-earned glories, are 
prone, until their mettle is tested, to receive their inexperienced 
brethren with no boisterous, cheery demonstrations of hearty 
welcome. This treatment was more pronounced when the sol- 
diers of 1862 joined the Army of the Potomac, as the impres- 
sion was abroad that their enlistment was prompted solely by a 
moneyed consideration. Of course, this soon wore away, and 
the entire army was, as in the beginning, one harmonious whole 
in feeling, sentiment and purpose. 

The 1 i8th's reception in the brigade was not attended by any 
joyous, gladsome shouts, nor was it exempt from the intima- 
tion that its presence at the front was largely due to the paltry 
shekels. The stolid indifference it met at every hand during the 
few days previous to the fight was frequently accompanied with 
epithets apparently intended to be enduring : " Here come the 
$200 boys from Philadelphia," and others of like import. The 
affair at Shepherdstown, though, wiped everything out. That 
was a crucial test, and one which conquered the prejudices of 
men whose trials of battle fitted them to judge of the worth of 
their fellows. Opprobrious allusions were changed to plaudits, 
and, for months afterwards, the command was pointed out 
everywhere to strangers as " the men who fought at Shepherds- 
town." 

Madison, an enlisted man of H, had a sorry experience. 
Past the prime of life, he was still of wiry, nervous energies. 
He never shirked duty, and, seeking neither cover nor conceal- 
ment, had stood up manfully through the heat of the action, 



— 72 — 

escaping unharmed. In common with many of his fellows, he 
selected the more exposed dam-breast as a means of more 
rapid transit over the river. He seemed to be chosen as a 
special mark for the enemy's resentment. They dealt with him 
in no unstinted way, and before he had reached the Maryland 
side five balls had passed into or through his body. The last 
shot struck him as he almost made the shore and had turned 
sideways to take a resentful glance at his persecutors. Enter- 
ing his cheek it passed through both jaws, between the tongue 
and roof of the mouth. With the pluck and energy of des- 
peration, and maddened to a towering rage, he vented his 
anger in a frightful howl, and facing squarely about gave his 
enemies the last shot he ever fired in the army, for his wounds 
terminated his service, but not his life. He is still a hearty,, 
vigorous man. 

Joe Kiersted, of H, was an uncouth, rough, turbulent sort of 
a fellow, but without bad propensities and a man of brave and 
generous impulse. He had passed safely through the fight, 
and successfully made the passage across the river. As he 
reached the bank on the Maryland side, he called to those 
around him that Corporal John Monteith was still upon the 
other side, lying seriously wounded near the edge of the river, 
and announced a half-formed purpose to return again and 
bring him back. The Berdan Sharpshooters, overhearing his 
remark and prompted to encourage such a generous intention, 
called to him, " Go it, my boy ; try it — we'll cover you." Thus 
strengthened in his kindly purpose, he dashed into the stream, 
and was soon after seen bearing his wounded comrade back 
again. He successfully landed poor Monteith upon the shore, 
and left him to the care of his sympathizing companions. 

Kiersted served with his regiment until 1864, when he was 
transferred to a battery, and killed, gallantly fighting with his 
guns at Spotsylvania, in May of that year. 

Monteith had an ugly wound through the lungs. He had 
worthily won himself into favor, and was universally known 
and appreciated throughout the entire command. His injuries 



— 73 — 

were fatal ; he sunk rapidly, and in a few days died at the hos- 
pital established at the Episcopal church in Sharpsburg. 

Sergeant Joseph Ashbrook, of Company C, was among the 
badly wounded. A few minutes before the retreat he was shot 
in the stomach. Believing that he was fatally hurt, and suffer- 
ing very much, he sought a place to lie down. In doing this 
he fell half-way down the bluff. In this short time the enemy 
had advanced to the edge of the bluff and were firing down on 
the heads of our retreating men. Sergeant Ashbrook, although 
disabled by his wound and fall, reached the river, where he met 
Captain Sharwood, of C, who advised him by all means to 
escape across the river. With difficulty he gained the slimy, 
half-submerged dam, and while near the Maryland side was 
again shot, the ball passing through his left thigh. His wounds 
were so serious that for some time his recovery was doubtful. 
After an absence of five months he returned to the regiment, 
joining it at Falmouth. He had not entirely recovered, but 
was induced to return by the offer of a second lieutenancy in 
recognition of his gallantry at Shepherdstown. He was after- 
wards promoted to a first lieutenancy, and finally to the captaincy 
of Company H ; and was brevetted major, to date from July 
6, 1864, "for gallant and distinguished services at the battles of 
the Wilderness and Bethesda Church, Virginia, and during the 
present campaign before Richmond, Virginia." He also served 
on the staff of General Bartlett, commanding the 3d Brigade, 
1st Division, 5th Army Corps ; and as ordnance-officer on the 
staff of General Griffin, commanding 1st Division, 5th Army 
Corps ; and in the latter position was detailed to receive the 
surrendered arms at Appomattox Court-house. 

John R. White was first sergeant of G. It had with it but 
two commissioned officers, Captain Saunders and Lieutenant 
J. R. White, both of whom had fallen in the Shepherdstown 
action. After the engagement Sergeant White was summoned 
to corps head-quarters, where General Fitz-John Porter, after 
handsomely commending the gallantry of the regiment for the 
fight it had made, and expressing regret at the severe casualties 



— 74 — 

that attended it, announced to him that as he had been recom- 
mended for promotion by his immediate superiors, he would at 
once place him on duty as second lieutenant. It was a rather 
unusual distinction to be placed in virtual commission before 
muster, but one which White well deserved, and which he sub- 
sequently proved his fitness for by rising to the rank of captain. 

The announcement of the death of poor Rudhall in the Phil- 
adelphia papers threw the two Whites into rather curious 
confusion. The two names exactly alike, the publication of 
that of John R. White among the list of killed, brought grief 
and sorrow to the home of the survivor, and two of his friends, 
anxious to secure his remains, started immediately for the front, 
with a pine box prepared for their reception. They made the 
journey with fitting gravity, and had reached Hagerstown be- 
fore their solemn countenances were enlivened with the infor- 
mation that the White they were hunting was alive and well, 
and would be decidedly indisposed to tenant the contracted 
quarters they had provided for him. Abandoning their under- 
taker's accompaniment, they continued their journey to the 
regimental camp, where, after a few days of suitable entertain- 
ment, they returned, well satisfied from ocular demonstration 
that their friend needed no such services as they had proposed 
to render. 

The battle had its humorous side as well. In the early part 
of the fight one of the members of Company K received a flesh 
wound in the thigh. The members of the company were 
startled by a yell that would have done great credit to an 
Apache, and the beseeching exclamation: "Oh! Captain Rick- 
etts! Oh ! Captain Ricketts ! " repeated again and again. Look- 
ing around to find from whom the exclamation came, the 
wounded man was seen holding one hand upon the spot where 
the ball had struck, while, the other hand meantime waving 
wildly in the air, he was hopping around the field in an im- 
promptu war-dance upon one foot, occasionally letting the other 
touch the ground. The boys, who, for several reasons, did not 
just then feel especially mirthful, were compelled to laugh at 



— 75 — 

this grotesque and singular exhibition. The wound was a 
comparatively slight one. 

Another member of Company K, John Burke, got a buck- 
shot in his leg. He went, after the fight, to the surgeon, who 
extracted the shot and gave him a quinine pill. " What shall 
I do with it, doctor ? " said John. " Shall I put it in the hole ? " 

A captain of one of the companies, seeking comforts not suit- 
able to the occasion, during the fight ensconced himself behind 
some scrubby bushes near the top of the bluff, with his back 
to the regiment. As the bullets began to whistle by he thought 
he had stirred up a yellow-jackets' nest. Waving his sword with 
one hand, shouting at the same time, " Give it to them, boys!" 
he kept the other hand in vigorous and unremittent motion, 
brushing the supposed yellow-jackets away from his face and 
ears. 

The next day, Sunday, the sun shone brightly and the soft 
air of early autumn caused a lassitude peculiar to the latitude 
and location. 

It was too soon for reminiscence, but thought and talk ran 
free and full of the stirring moments of yesterday. There was 
a better comprehension of the individual heroism with which 
all had so nobly borne for the first time such a desperate shock 
of battle. There was a fuller realization of the loss of those 
who, in the service of their country, the fates had summoned 
thus early to sacrifice their patriotic lives. 

A picket-detail was posted upon the river-bank, in full view 
of the bluff on the opposite shore and the battle-ground. Oc- 
casional shots required tact and activity to find cover from ex- 
posure, or called for careful marksmanship to silence the more 
experienced adversary. The silent forms of the dead, killed in 
the fight, were in plain view. It was a sorrowful sight. The 
ground being within the enemy's line, there was no opportunity 
to effect decent burial or to administer comfort and consolation 
to a possibly ebbing life. 

An incident of the day, unusual in the story of wars, is 
worthy of exhaustive mention. 



- 76 - 

The sensibilities of Lieutenant Lemuel L. Crocker had been 
aroused by the necessary abandonment of the dead and 
wounded, left uncared for and unattended in the precipitate 
withdrawal. He entreated Colonel Barnes so earnestly for 
permission to go and care for the forsaken ones, that the col- 
onel, fully comprehending the impropriety of the request, at 
last reluctantly consented to present it to General Fitz-John 
Porter, the corps commander. It met with a flat, emphatic 
refusal. There was no communication with the enemy, and it 
was not proposed to open any. War was war, and this was 
neither the time nor the occasion for sentiment or sympathy. 
But Crocker was not to be deterred in his errand of mercy, 
and, in positive disregard of instructions, proceeded delib- 
erately, fully accoutred with sword, belt and pistol, to cross the 
river at the breast of the dam. It was a novel spectacle for an 
officer, armed with all he was entitled to carry, to thus com- 
mence a lonesome advance against a whole army corps. Bound 
upon an unauthorized mission of peace and humanity, a little 
experience might have taught him his reception would have 
been more cordial if he had left his weapons at home. Still, it 
was Crocker's heart at work, and its honest, manly beats bade 
him face the danger. 

He found the bodies of Saunders, Ricketts and Moss, and 
Private Mishaw badly wounded, but still alive. He was bearing 
them, one by one, upon his shoulders to the river-bank, when he 
was suddenly interrupted by an orderly from General Porter, who 
informed him that he was instructed to direct him to return at 
once or he would order a battery to shell him out. His reply 
was : " Shell and be damned ! " He didn't propose to return 
until the full purpose of his undertaking had been accom- 
plished. 

The orderly thus abruptly disposed of, he continued his 
operations, when he was again interrupted by an authority 
which, if it failed to command respect, could enforce obedience. 
He had carried all the bodies to the bank, and was returning 
for the wounded Mishaw, when a Confederate general — whom 



— 77 — 

Crocker always thought was Lee, but in this he was evidently- 
mistaken — accompanied by a numerous staff, came upon the 
ground. An aide-de-camp rode up, inquiring, with some 
asperity — explaining that no flag of truce was in operation — 
as to who and what he was, his purpose in being there, and by 
whose authority. 

Crocker's work, which he had conducted wholly himself, had 
put him in a sorry plight. He was of large frame, muscular, 
and finely proportioned. He had carried the bodies over his 
left shoulder and was absolutely covered with blood and dirt, 
almost unrecognizable as a soldier, and his voice and form alone 
indicated his manhood. His reply was prompt and ingenu- 
ous : he had been refused permission to cross by his corps 
commander, to whom he had made his purpose known ; the 
dead and wounded of the regiment that fought on that ground 
yesterday were of the blood of Philadelphia's best citizens, and, 
regardless of the laws of war and the commands of his supe- 
riors, he was of opinion that humanity and decency demanded 
that they be properly cared for, which, no one else attempting, 
he had determined to risk the consequences and discharge the 
duty himself. The simplicity and earnestness of this reply 
prompted the further interrogation as to how long he had been 
in the service. " Twenty days," responded Crocker. The 
gentle " I thought so " from the lips of the veteran general 
showed that the ingenuousness and sincerity had wholly cap- 
tured him. He bade him continue his labors until they were 
fully completed, pointed out a boat on the shore that he could 
utilize to ferry his precious freight across the stream, and sur- 
rounded the field with a cordon of cavalry patrols to protect 
him from further molestation or interruption. 

But Crocker had a host of troubles to face upon his return. 
He had openly violated the positive commands of his superior ; 
he had been shamefully insulting to the messenger who bore 
his superior's instructions, and had acted in utter disregard of 
well-known laws governing armies confronting each other. 
Still, there was something about the whole affair so honest, so 



- 7 8 - 

earnest, and so true, that there was a disposition to temporize 
with the stern demands of discipline. And he had fully accom- 
plished his purpose — all the bodies and the wounded man were 
safely landed on the Maryland side. However, he was promptly 
arrested. 

Colonel Barnes, who had watched him through all his oper- 
ations, was the first of his superiors who was prompted to leni- 
ency, and he accompanied him to corps head-quarters to inter- 
cede in his behalf. They were ushered into the presence of 
General Porter, who, shocked at such a wholesale accumulation 
of improprieties, and angered to a high tension by such positive 
disobediences, proceeded, in short and telling phrases, to explain 
the law and regulations — all of which, if Crocker didn't know 
before he started, he had had full opportunity to gather in dur- 
ing his experiences. 

Then followed moments of painful silence, and the general 
inquired whether he had seen a gun which the regulars had 
left upon the other side the day before, and if so, what was the 
likelihood of its recovery. Crocker replied that he had not, 
but had noticed a caisson, and that he did not consider it likely 
it would ever come back. Returning to the subject, the general 
continued his reproof; but, considering his inexperience, un- 
questioned courage, and evident good intentions, he finally 
yielded, concluding that the reprimand was sufficient punish- 
ment, and released him from arrest and restored him to duty. 

As incidents in Crocker's career appear from time to time 
through these pages, it will be noted that these early manifesta- 
tions of his daring, pluck and energy intensified as the years 
grew and the occasions thickened. 

During the first tour of picket-duty performed after the Shep- 
herdstown fight, an incident occurred which brought Major 
Herring, who had command of the line, into rather a stormy 
word combat with a couple of officers, who subsequently iden- 
tified themselves as of the regular army, and aides on the staff 
of General McClellan. The line extended along the banks in 
the direction of the stone piers of the old bridge. 




— 79 — 

Everything was remarkably quiet when Herring, about noon, 
received word that two officers, representing themselves to be 
from army head-quarters, and claiming to be under a flag of 
truce, were desirous of crossing the river. Presenting no evi- 
dence of their authority to enter the enemy's lines, personally 
unknown, and with no identification, they were held to await 
instructions. Lieutenant Hess, of the 13th New York State 

cu^Mj As/id /£<* o™ -/>-*f. <*~^l o^^'^-^u, 

FAC-SIMILE OF THE COMMUNICATION. 

Volunteers, on whose front they first approached, to expedite 
matters, before conducting them to Major Herring had sent a 
written communication to corps head-quarters for advice. When 
they reached Herring their detention had aroused their ire, and 
one, who announced himself as Captain Custer, of the regular 
army, afterwards the general of famous cavalry repute, became 
very abusive of the volunteers. Their incompetency and unfit- 
ness for outpost duty was what he most dwelt upon, and as the 



— 8o — 

delay increased his language and manner grew more offensive. 
But Herring, who was really lenient in not arresting them, 
calmly repelled their insinuations and bade them content them- 
selves, for until he should be advised as to what to do with 
them, with him they must remain. Meanwhile General Porter's 
message to let them pass, if they could be properly identified, 
came to hand, but as yet there was no means of identification. 
While the parley continued, Custer insisting and Herring re- 
fusing, Captain Peters, also of the regulars, whom Herring 
knew, rode up, and addressing Custer by name, the affair con- 
cluded in a very friendly spirit by the two being permitted to 
continue their journey. 

The following from the pen of Joseph Meehan, of Company 
A, is quaintly and truthfully earnest. So honest a description 
of a battle experience has rarely appeared : 

"Towards evening on the 19th our colonel rode up to our 
front and called for fifty volunteers to take a rebel battery, 
across the river, five being wanted from each company. I re- 
sponded the second man from my company. I gave my watch 
and purse to our sergeant to keep for me, my kit to a comrade, 
and, with a general hand-shaking all around, we were off. 

" Clearing a woods between us and the river, we found our 
artillery posted facing the river. We had a good step to go 
through an open field before gaining the river. The artillery 
opened over our heads, under cover of which we reached the 
river-bank, receiving a volley from the enemy's infantry on the 
opposite side as we advanced, which, however, did us no harm. 
Wading a canal knee-deep in water, we laid flat on the ground, 
as the rebel pickets were firing across at us. Waiting this way 
perhaps half an hour, word came to us that the battery had 
been captured by another body of troops acting in conjunction 
with us, and we returned quietly to camp. Our colonel made 
a complimentary speech to us on our behavior, and took a list 
of those who had volunteered. 

"As this was my first time actually under infantry fire, I was 
greatly excited. My feelings are hard to describe. When 



walking across the open field, with the artillery firing overhead 
and the rebels firing at us, I felt afraid. My heart beat tumult- 
uously. 1 thought I might be killed, and had no wish to die. 
I longed to live, and thought myself a fool for voluntarily plac- 
ing myself in the army. Yet I had no idea at all of turning 
back. My feelings were, that if ordered to go on, I would go, 
but gladly would I have welcomed the order, 'About face/ 
By the time the river was reached I was much calmer, the dread 
was working off me, and while not eager, as I had been to start, 
I felt that if we crossed the river and charged the rebels I could 
do what the rest could. 

" The next day, the 20th of September, ushered in Shepherds- 
town, a name that will never be forgotten by those of the 1 18th 
who were there. I had gone with my tent-mate, Fairbrother, 
for water, a distance of nearly a mile. On our return to camp, 
about 9 a. m., we found the regiment just moving. We had 
barely time to put on our knapsacks and fall into line with the 
rest. 

" Reaching the Potomac, many of us took off our shoes and 
stockings and rolled up our pants ; others did not. When 
nearly across I began to hear stray shots on the rebel side, 
which continued as we advanced. My first knowledge of im- 
mediate danger came when forming on the rebel shore. Lieu- 
tenant Wilson admonished us to be sure and pay attention to 
our officers' orders, and all would be well. Turning to the 
right, we hurried a short distance, then taking a turn to the 
left ascended a hill by the aid of low bushes which grew on the 
slope, reaching the top of a high bluff. Here we found firing 
already going on between our skirmishers and the rebels. Our 
boys began to look very serious indeed. I did not feel one bit 
alarmed. My little experience of the previous night, I suppose, 
took fear from me. I remember distinctly the feeling of indif- 
ference, so different from the evening before. I can truly say 
that at no time during the fight which came had I the least fear, 
or desire to turn back. 

" We were soon formed in line of battle along the crest of the 
6 



bluff We at first knelt down, then In a little while advanced a 
few steps. The rebels were now in full view, dodging about 
behind the trees and running along by a rail fence a good dis- 
tance off. About this time our orderly-sergeant got off his first 
shot ; my own immediately followed, the second in our com- 
pany. The rebel fire and our own now became brisk. 

" There was considerable confusion among our men and much 
noise, from the suddenness with which we found ourselves called 
into a brisk fight. A cry reached me about this time to fix 
bayonets. Who gave it I do not know. I shouted the order 
loudly to those about me. Captain O'Neil, who was near me, 
asked me what I said. I replied : ' They are calling to fix bay- 
onets.' He raised his voice and called out : ' Fix bayonets ; ' 
but there were but few besides myself who did it. The rebels 
were now approaching quite close. I had broken the nipple 
of my gun and had picked up another gun lying near me, but, 
as with the first one, I had great trouble in getting it to go off 
It made me very angry ; I felt that I would give all the world 
to be able to shoot the advancing foe. I had fired but about a 
half-dozen shots, when as many again could have been got off 
had the guns been good for anything. 

" I had taken a pin out and cleaned the nipple, and had 
raised my rifle for a shot when I felt what seemed like a blow 
with a heavy fist on my left shoulder from behind. I did not 
realize at first that I was shot, feeling no particular pain, but my 
almost useless arm soon told me what it was. I called to our 
orderly-sergeant that I was shot. He made no reply, probably 
not understanding me. 

" I then took my first look back of me, and found myself 
very nearly alone. Two wounded men, McElroy and Tibben, 
of Company A, were right behind me on the ground. I passed 
them both, and began to descend the hill with numerous others. 
There was great disorder. About half-way down, among the 
brush, an officer was trying to stem the tide of descent. I slid 
down the slope, with my one free arm to aid me, and reaching 
the road at the bottom of the bluft ran a short distance till I 



- 8 4 - 

came to three archways in the hill. Into the first of these I got 
for protection. Two other wounded men were there and three 
others, one of whom was John Bray, one of my tent-mates. 
Our artillery at this time was shelling the heights to cover our 
retreat. The shells fell short, and one of them exploded in the 
archway next to me, tearing almost off the leg of Corporal 
James Wilson, who was therein for shelter. 

" Those of us who were in the arches did not know what to 
do. The shells seemed directed at us, they struck the bluff 
above us, and sent the stones down in our front. Many 
splashed in the water alongside of us. Expecting to be hit 
every minute, some of my companions deemed it safer to sur- 
render to the rebels, and actually fixed a white handkerchief to a 
bayonet, and started to go up the hill again, but they changed 
their minds. 

" From our retreat we witnessed a scene of great excitement. 
Men were trying to get across the river, the bullets dropping 
about them like hail. One or two were swimming, as being a 
safer plan. A breakwater ran across the river near us, and it 
contained many dead and wounded men. Nearly all of our 
party left to go across when the firing slackened, except the 
wounded men. 

"A tribute here should be given to John Bray, who when 
asked if he was going, refused to go, saying he would stay with 
the wounded men. A little later he and I determined to try 
it, first getting for poor Wilson a canteen of water from the 
river, he asking, ' in God's name,' for a drink of water. Look- 
ing at my own canteen here, I found it, too, had been hit, a ball 
having struck it with force enough to make a hole in one side, 
but not going clean through. With Bray helping me on my 
wounded side, we struck into the river. We passed many 
dead and some who were but wounded. One man asked us, 
again in God's name, for help, which we could not render. 
Near our own side of the river we passed one who was com- 
pletely under water. We raised his head above the water, 
when voices from our side bid us to hurry over at once. 



- 85 - 

" We got across safely, and I was put into a temporary shed 
with other wounded men, and later in the day, assisted by 
comrades Evans and Scout, taken to an ambulance, which 
transported me and two others to Sharpsburg, where a church 
had been turned into a hospital for the wounded men." 

Dr. Joseph Thomas thus graphically describes his experience 
within the enemy's lines immediately after the Shepherdstown 
affair : 

" On the afternoon following the day of the fight, soon after 
Crocker had brought the dead bodies of the officers over, on 
going down to the river near the dam, I heard the cries of the 
wounded on the other side, still lying upon the battle-field and 
calling for help. I resolved to go over and render them aid. 
Taking with me a companion (one of the hospital attendants), 
supplied with bandages and case of instruments, I went across 
the dam without let or hindrance, except the splash of a few 
rifle-balls in the water a distance off, fired by our own pickets. 
I discovered several dead men of our regiment still lying on 
the broken breastwork of the dam. Reaching the opposite 
side of the river, back of the mill, we proceeded up the ravine 
until we came to the plateau above. Here a considerable 
number of the killed still lay, and the wounded that had 
screamed for help. 

" There were, perhaps, a score of them, so badly injured as 
to be incapable of locomotion or movement. We washed and 
bathed their wounds, supplied them with water, administered a 
dose of anodyne, and promised to have them removed as soon 
as possible. 

" While we were engaged at this work, a mounted vidette 
came up, and inquired our business there and authority. 
Pointing to my green sash and case of instruments, I answered, 
' Can't you see that we are surgeons attending to the wounded?' 
He replied, 'All right ; go on, and when you are through here 
I will conduct you to the rear some distance, to a house ; 
where you will find more of your wounded.' I agreed to 
accompany him. Then, following him along a pathway through 



— 86 — 

the dense undergrowth (I should say half a mile), we came to 
a house. Here we found some twenty men, nearly half of 
them being rebel soldiers, and the rest of our regiment, 
wounded, but not severely. They all appeared happy and very 
friendly. 

" On inquiring whether they had any food, they pointed to a 
kettle over the fire containing a chicken and some potatoes 
cooking, and answered : ' We are doing well enough.' The 
Johnnies spoke up, and said : ' We will take care of the boys 
when we find them unarmed and wounded, as brothers, but 
when they come with arms in their hands, we are always ready 
to meet them.' 

" We left them and returned under the guidance of the 
vidette, who appeared a very kind-hearted fellow. We came 
back from the plateau on the right, reaching the Shepherdstown 
road, approached the dam, passed through the rapid sluice 
with effort, recrossed the river and reported our experience. 
An effort was made to have the wounded brought over. This 
was done that evening or next morning, under a flag of truce." 

The narrative of Sergeant H. T. Peck's experience as a 
prisoner of war, subsequent to his Shepherdstown capture, he 
relates with telling effect. 

"After the engagement of September 20th, the prisoners 
were detained several hours by the rebels in a little grove half 
a mile north of the battle-field and on a road leading from 
Shepherdstown. None of the rebel main body was seen by us, 
only the guard, a company of about fifty men, and General 
Hill, who came, with his staff and escort, to look at us. To- 
wards evening we were marched several miles away, where we 
remained in a woods till next afternoon, Sunday. In the morn- 
ing a portion of Stonewall Jackson's corps encamped near 
us, and we had nearly all day a constant stream of gray- 
coated visitors, who were very good-natured in their inter- 
course. 

" The rebel troops were remarkably orderly. Religious ser- 
vices in the afternoon were largely attended by them, if it is 



- 8; - 

proper to judge by the volume of voices heard singing Meth- 
odist hymn-tunes in several parts of their camp. Late in the 
day we were marched some five or six miles conformably with 
a movement of the rebel corps. 

" Our men were subsisting on the food they had in haver- 
sacks at the time of the battle, together with what corn ' pone ' 
they could buy from the rebel soldiers. Some who were with- 
out money went a little short of food, but there was no suffer- 
ing at all, the luckier ones dividing with the others quite lib- 
erally. In the morning, Monday, rations of wheat flour and 
bacon were issued to us. The latter was very acceptable and 
useful. The flour, though good in quality, was entirely useless 
to our men since they, unlike the Confederates, were without 
skill in cooking it and had no opportunity of trading it for 
bread or meat. 

" Shortly after receiving rations we commenced our march 
to Winchester. Reaching Martinsburg at about ten o'clock, 
we passed first through the better part of the town. Few men 
were to be seen, but many of the women came to their doors 
or windows to see us pass and fling at us bitter exclamations. 
We were called Yankee devils, murderers and thieves, and our 
guard was begged to strangle or shoot us. It was the young 
ladies especially who fired at us this quality of animosity. At 
the other end of the town, the locality of more humble homes, 
our reception was materially different. Women and children 
came to us from all directions with a profusion of lunches of 
bread and meat and cakes, and in many instances with jars of 
preserves, their choicest dainties, which they really could ill 
afford to part with. The guards offered no objection to these 
contributions, and indeed congratulated us on our good luck. 

" These women belonged to the families of mechanics em- 
ployed mostly in the extensive railroad shops located here, and 
were presumably from the North. 

" While halted a few miles out of Martinsburg, a mounted 
Confederate, a guerilla probably, got into some dispute with 
one of our men, drew his pistol and made such earnest threats 



to use it, the captain of our guard ordered some of his men to 
cover the braggart with their muskets, which, we felt assured, 
he would have had used if the guerilla had injured any of our 
party. 

" While halted for rest near the town of Bunker Hill, a rebel 
band, out of sight, but near by in the woods, gave us a surprise, 
probably more pleasant than they imagined, by playing the 
Star Spangled Banner. 

" In Winchester we were consigned to the court-house and 
the inclosure between it and the street. There was already in 
these precincts a crowd of some 300 rebels, stragglers, con- 
scripts and the riff-raff a provost-guard can pick up — a miser- 
able lot — who did not fraternize with our men, and who were so 
filthy in clothing and habits that our men remained of choice 
in the open yard without tents or blankets, even during nights 
of hoarfrost, to avoid contact with those in the court-house, 
which we were otherwise free to occupy. 

" Rations issued to us here were raw beef and flour, but no 
arrangements were provided for cooking — not even a stick of 
wood for fire. At our request the officer of the guard per- 
mitted one of our non-commissioned officers to go, under 
guard, about the town to bargain for the cooking of the food. 
A baker traded us bread, pound for pound, for flour, and a 
woman engaged to boil the beef for a moderate sum of money, 
which we collected from our party. In the beef-boiling trans- 
action our contract turned out to be imperfect ; the agreement 
on the part of the female was to boil the meat. It was boiled, 
but so thoroughly no two shreds of it would hold together. 
There was probably a good profit in the soup from a hundred 
and fifty pounds of beef. Our allowance from the rebel com- 
missary was a pound of flour and half a pound of meat per 
day. 

" Every afternoon while we were here a neatly-dressed mu- 
latto girl came to the court-house yard with a large loaf of 
bread, a lump of butter and a kettle of two or three gallons of 
delicious soup. She invariably delivered the gift to one of our 



— 89 — 

sergeants, who most probably had been pointed out to her as 
we passed through the street on our way to the court-house as 
a proper person to receive it. The girl could not be induced 
to tell the sergeant who sent the food, saying : ' I darsent tell 
her name for fear of these (rebel) soldiers, but my missis sends 
it.' It was hoped the Union lady learned from the rather 
stupid girl how more than thankful we were for her timely and 
touching gift. 

" One morning a young lady we had frequently noticed as 
the recipient of many attentions from Confederate officers 
came to the railing and, calling to one of our party, said : ' Ser- 
geant, you are to be paroled in a few days (this was our earliest 
report about it) and sent home. I wish, if you see General 
Shields when you return, you would give him Belle Boyd's 
compliments, and say she would be happy to see him in the 
valley again.' 

" Owing to restricted diet and exposure, without any cover- 
ing whatever from the frosty night air, all of our men suffered 
more or less with dysentery. No medical attention was offered 
them. Their previous robust health, however, and the hope of 
soon getting back to our own lines, kept them up, and not 
one became helpless. 

" For one or two nights we had small but very hot fires 
made of beef bones, which we found burn surprisingly well. 
On the morning we were sent away we were brought into the 
court-house, one by one, to sign the following parole paper: 

" I, , do solemnly swear that I will not do or undertake any act or exert 

any inflence in favor of or for the advantage of the United States; or against the 
government of the Confederate States ; and that I will not divulge anything that 
I have seen or heard, or may see or hear, to the prejudice of the Confederate 
States ; or engage in any military act whatsoever during the present war until 
regularly included in an authorized exchange of prisoners. 

" Sworn before me this 29th day of September, in the year of our Lord one 
thousand eight hundred and sixty-two, at Winchester, Virginia. 

" Major W. Kyle. 

" By order of General Robert E. Lee. 

" To one who signed nearly the last, the rebel captain having 



— 90 — 

the document remarked : ' Why, I find all your men can write 
their own names.' 

"We marched out of Winchester at 9 or 10 in the morning, 
and soon reached the hills to the eastward ; thence all the way 
to Harper's Ferry we passed through a country very beautiful 
in a dress of early autumn foliage. We were pushed on at 
a rapid gait, as our guard was at this time a detachment of 
mounted men, but, having no load to carry, we were not inor- 
dinately fatigued. We bivouacked beside a mountain stream 




ADJUTANT JAMES P. PEROT. 



and resumed the march early in the morning, passing through 
Charlestown, of John Brown fame. We came to our outposts, 
a short distance from Harper's Ferry, late in the afternoon. A 
flag of truce was sent in and we were promptly transferred to 
the Federal commandant of pickets." 

One personal incident, however, appears to have escaped 
Peck. While idling away his time as a prisoner, he picked up 



— 9 i — 

a stray cap of the regiment, abandoned upon the battle-field. 
Removing a metal figure " 1 " from its front, he placed it 
opposite the regimental number on his own, thus increasing the 
numerals to the enormous size of 1118. It was deftly done 
and calculated to make even a close observer believe that the 
figures had all been placed there at one time and were intended 
to mean what they purported. These extravagant figures soon 
attracted attention. A Confederate officer, startled at their 
high proportions, inquired earnestly from what State the wearer 
of the cap hailed. " Pennsylvania," was the prompt reply. 
" Great heavens ! " he exclaimed ; " is Pennsylvania running 
into the thousands ? With that State alone with 1 , 1 1 8 regiments 
in the field, how can the poor Confederacy ever expect to suc- 
ceed ! " And he strolled on, apparently, for the moment at 
least, yielding to the deception. 

The following incident from the pen of Major Henry Kyd 
Douglass, formerly of Stonewall Jackson's staff, is of intense 
interest and connects itself in proper sequence with matters 
incident to Shepherdstown. 

" Several weeks after the battle of Antietam, when our head- 
quarters were at Bunker Hill, I went to Shepherdstown to hear 
something, if possible, from home. My father lived on the 
Maryland side of the Potomac, on the crest of a hill, which 
overlooked the river, the town, and the country beyond. The 
Potomac was the dividing line between the two States and the 
two armies, and the bridge that once spanned it there had been 
burned early in the war. 

" It was a bright and quiet day, and from the Virginia cliffs 
I saw the enemy's pickets lying lazily along the canal tow- 
path or wandering over the fields. Up against the hill I saw 
rifle-pits in a field in front of my home, and blue-coats evidently 
in possession of it ; and then I saw my father come out of the 
house and walk off towards the barn. I saw no one else 
except soldiers. It was not a cheerful sight, and I turned 
away and down to the river to water my horse. As I rode 
into the stream several cavalrymen rode in on the other side ; 



— 9 2 — 

they saluted me by lifting their hats and I returned their salute. 
They invited me, laughingly, to come over, and I, being in- 
tensely anxious to hear something from home, replied that I 
would meet them in the middle of the river. They at once 
drew out of the water and dismounted, and so did I and the 
courier who was with me. Haifa dozen of them got into the 
ferry-boat, which was on their side, and we embarked in a leaky 
skiff, my courier using a paddle which he found at hand. We 
met the enemy's man-of-war in the middle of the stream and 
grappled it, while it was held in place with poles by its boat- 
men. After the first greetings the captain of the gunboat 
(he was only a sergeant, by the way) said to me: ' I see you 
are a staff-officer.' My blunt courier broke in gruffly : ' Yes, and 
don't you think it devilish hard for a man to be this near home ' 
and not be able to speak to his father or mother ? ' 

" This exposure of my identity was the very thing I did not 
wish. The sergeant looked a little astonished and replied: 'So 
you are Captain Douglass, of General Jackson's staff, are you ? 
We knew that the old gentleman on the hill has two sons in 
the Confederate army, one on the general's staff' When I 
acknowledged his correctness, he said, with much earnestness, 
that I must get into their boat and go over to see my family. 
I began to protest that it would not do, when one of the others 
broke in : ' Say, get in, captain ; get in. If this Government 
can be busted up by a rebel soldier going to see his mother, 
why, damn it, let it bust!' 

" There was a laughing chorus of assent to this that shook 
my doubts. I told my blue-coated friends that there was no 
officer among them, and that any officer who caught me on the 
other side might not recognize their safeguard and I might be 
detained. The sergeant replied that all their officers were in 
Sharpsburg at a dinner, and, at any rate, this party would 
pledge themselves to return me safely. It was an occasion for 
some risk and I took it. I got into the large boat and my 
courier came along in his skiff ' to see fair play,' as he grimly 
said. 



— 93 — 

" When we reached the Maryland shore, the soldiers on the 
bank crowded down to the boats, and soon, Yankee-like, were 
in full tide of questions, especially about Stonewall Jackson. 
As I had declined to leave our ships for the purpose of going 
up to my home, a cavalryman had gone to the house, under 
spur, to notify my family of my arrival. My mother soon 
made her appearance, very much frightened, for she believed I 
could only be there as a prisoner. My father, not being al- 
lowed to leave his premises without permission, could not 
come. As my mother approached, the soldiers, at a signal 
from the sergeant, drew away and sat down on the tow-path, 
where they and my courier interviewed each other. 

"As this strange meeting .gave my mother more anxiety 
than comfort, it was a brief one. Nothing passed between us, 
however, that could ' bust the Government ' or bring trouble on 
the sergeant and his men. When my mother left and took 
her stand upon the canal bank to see us safely off, the soldiers 
gathered about me to have a litttle talk, but I did not tarry. I 
gave the sergeant and his crew of the man-of-war my autograph 
upon sundry slips of paper, and told them that if the fortune of 
war should make them prisoners, the little papers might be of 
service to them if sent to General Jackson's head-quarters. 

"As we took our leave and got into our skiff, the chivalric, 
manly sergeant said to me: 'We belong to (I think) the 1st 
New York Cavalry. My parents live on the banks of the 
Hudson, and what I have done for you, I'd like some one to 
do for me if in the same fix. While I'm here I'll keep an eye 
on your home and people and do what I can for them ' (and he 
did). And as the skiff moved over the water and took me from 
home again, I raised my hat to my ' good friend, the enemy/ 
and they stood along the shore, in response, with uncovered 
heads ; and then I waved it to my father, who stood on the 
stone wall which crowns the hill and gazed, but made no sign; 
and then to my mother on the bank, who, seeing me safely off, 
waved her handkerchief with a tremulous flutter, and then hid 
her face in it as she turned and hurried away. 



— 94 — 

" I was glad to learn afterwards that no harm came to the 
sergeant for his rash kindness to me. I have forgotten his 
name, if he ever told me, but I hope he lived to return safely 
to his folks on the banks of the Hudson. 

" It is such touches as this that lighten up the inhumanities 
of war. 




i 

- 






CHAPTER IV. 




FROM SHEPHERDSTOWN TO FREDERICKSBURG. 

HE same ground near Blackford's 
Ford, from which the regiment 
moved to the fight at Shepherds- 
town on the 20th, was its home 
until the latter part of October, 
when the entire army began an- 
other advance into Virginia. 

The camp was in the fringe of 
timber; a slightly sloping knoll 
rose in its front, separating it 
from the empty canal and the 
Potomac. This knoll was manned 
all along its crest by Parrott guns in battery, concealed in 
the timber; there were no artillerymen with them, and the only 
support in the immediate neighborhood was the regiment. 
The guns were evidently planted to command the plain upon 
the other side. 

Blackford's house, to which Colonel Prevost and others of 
the wounded were carried after the fight, and from the owner 
of which the ford derived its name, was upon the road to the 
right of the camp. In the distance, a mile or so to the right, 
on the Virginia side, Shepherdstown, with its few red roofs and 
single spire peeping up from its grove of trees, was plainly 
visible. 

It is doubtful whether any of the new organizations were for 
so long a time so illy provided with the comforts and shelter 
that often make well-regulated camp-life a fair substitute for 
homes and firesides. Up to this time there was not a tent 

(95) 



- 9 6- 

or piece of canvas in the command. Unused to exposure and 
inexperienced in improvising shelter, quarters constructed of 
boughs, trees and bush were but poor substitutes for the tight 
and cosy " dog-houses " — such was the familiar name for the 
shelter-tents — which whitened the country in every direction. 
Houseless and homeless, the discomforts increased through the 
chill October nights; but officers and men were alike incon- 
venienced, and all bore it uncomplainingly. Shelter-tents and 
gum-blankets were not issued until just before the encampment 
broke up. 

The pressure of the march had been so continuous, there 
had been really no opportunity for tactical instruction. Such 
a season of relief from the every-day tramp was much needed, 
nor was the occasion neglected. The weather and the grounds 
were favorable, and with drills, company and battalion, inspec- 
tions, guard-mounting, guard-duty and dress-parades, the, regi- 
ment left Blackford's Ford a fairly instructed and decidedly a 
well disciplined set of men. Much knowledge was also gathered 
of the watchful care and individual responsibility needed in the 
performance of picket-duty. The regiment picketed the river- 
bank, with details by no means light, from the camp up the 
river to the piers of the old foot-bridge opposite Shepherds- 
town. Part of the time the enemy occupied the other side, 
and their proximity demanded unusual alertness and constant 
activity. 

Most of the wounded from the field of the 20th remained in 
the hospitals about Sharpsburg. Their weary, lonesome hours 
were cheered by frequent visits from their companions, en- 
camped so long in the close vicinity. 

Invigorating autumn weather, clear, crisp evenings, good 
camping-ground, and some leisure following the stirring times 
of Antietam, stimulated invention to bestir itself for inspiriting 
entertainment. 

A gentleman beyond middle life had been assigned as a regi- 
mental assistant-surgeon. In the command in which his as- 
signment placed him were a bright lot of young officers, little 




^w, sjL* 



Surgeon II8th Penna. Vols. 



— 97 — 

disposed to restraint when any scheme was suggested indicat- 
ing fun, no matter how extravagant or at whose expense. 

These sprigs determined to put the new doctor through an 
examination, conducted with all formality, the result of which 
was to decide his efficiency and determine whether his capaci- 
ties entitled him to retention. Selecting " Speedwell," a fanci- 
ful conception, for an unheard-of Maryland town, they located 
the head-quarters of the army there, and published the special 
order organizing the board of examiners, dated, " Head-quarters 
Army of the Potomac, Camp near Speedwell, Maryland, Oc- 
tober 30, 1862." The order designated the doctor as the only 
officer on which it operated and announced the detail, which 
included the surgeon, as entirely of the officers of his own regi- 
ment. Neither the mythical location nor the fact that officers 
only of his regiment, and none of these save one of the medical 
profession, aroused suspicion, and the doctor prepared himself 
for the approaching test. 

He was told his green sash, the military designation of his 
professional rank on all occasions of examination, was required 
to be worn like an " officer of the day," across the shoulder in- 
stead of round the waist. Accordingly on the evening selected, 
for the order named the hour for the board to convene as 7 p. m., 
the doctor presented himself in full uniform, with his sash dis- 
played as he had been instructed. There sat the promoters of 
the scheme — they had named themselves as the members of 
the board — in a hospital tent that had been suitably prepared 
for the occasion, arrayed in all becoming dignity. 

The surgeon had been named as president and the adjutant 
as recorder. First the quartermaster plied questions on trains, 
subsistence, issues and accounts. Then the adjutant sifted out 
a number of insolvable tactical problems. The doctor made 
some attempts at answers, but uttered no complaint at the 
character of the interrogatories. When the surgeon took hold 
of him on his medical attainments he passed most satisfactorily. 
The examination over, the doctor was politely dismissed, and 
when he was far enough away the suppressed laughter was 
7 



- 9 8 - 

given a vent. After it was over all thoughts were turned as to 
how to get out of it, when the old gentleman tumbled to the 
situation. It was a long time before he did, and then not until 
the excuses of the usual head-quarter's delays had ceased to 
satisfy him as a reason for his not knowing the result. Ulti- 
mately the chaplain's aid was invoked. He was the doctor's 
best friend, and succeeded, after he disclosed how he had been 
trifled with, in so quieting his wrath as to prevent him bringing 
his persecutors to answer for their escapade. 

Reproof they certainly richly deserved. Whether they had 
transgressed far enough to be reached by the strong arm of 
military law was never determined, because no one pursued 
them. 

Several times during the stay preliminary orders came to 
prepare three days' cooked rations, to reduce the officers' bag- 
gage to the minimum, and accompanied by an issue of sixty 
rounds of ammunition per man. They were too definite and 
specific for a reconnoissance and indicated a general advance. 
Their repetition and failure of consummation drew from an ob- 
serving soldier the facetious remark, that those in authority 
were awaiting another storm for the Potomac to swell again, 
as it would never do to push the troops across in good 
weather. 

Rut at four o'clock on the afternoon of the 30th of October 
doubt and uncertainty vanished, and the campaign began that 
terminated on the fateful field of Fredericksburg in the follow- 
ing December. 

The march continued well into the night and it was ten 
o'clock when the bivouac was made at Bryant's Farm, on the 
Potomac, near the base of Maryland Heights. Pen and pencil 
have been prolific in picture, print and story of the grand and 
picturesque in American scenery. The gorge of the Potomac 
at Harper's Ferry has not been stinted in the full measure of 
its just deserts by artist and author, who have told of or painted 
its grandeurs. Still, when, with the early morning sun, Mary- 
land, Loudon and Bolivar Heights, the Potomac and Shenan- 



— 99 — 

doah, all burst, in the grandeur of lofty summits, the placidity 
of smooth-flowing river and madness of rushing stream, in one 
general sweep upon the vision of men who for the first time 
beheld them, they left, even upon the least impressionable, recol- 
lections never to be forgotten. 

In the immediate front Maryland Heights rose abruptly some 
thousand feet with their rocky-faced base and sterile boulder, 
sparsely timbered slope, grim, barren and formidable. Upon 
the right, and over the Potomac a mile and more, bold, round, 
green and treeless, stood the Bolivar Heights; and down the 
river a little farther, upon the Virginia side, where the turbid 
Shenandoah debouches from the valley and mingles with the 
waters of the broad and placid Potomac, Loudon, precipitous, 
rocky, wooded, its foliage just taking the golden hues of 
autumn, rose frowning in its majesty. Nestled in the angle 
made by the two rivers, partly visible, was quaint old Harper's 
Ferry, with the tall chimneys and long ruined walls of its 
arsenal still standing, the silent witnesses of the little prelim- 
inary protoplasm from which the big war had grown to its then 
towering magnitude. And to the southward, till mountain and 
horizon united, the two prominent ranges that formed the boun- 
daries of the great Shenandoah valley dwindled into the misty 
distance. This was the valley whose prolific yield of meat and 
cereal supplied the sinews which sustained the strife, until at 
last war, cruel war, that in its harsh severities knows no hu- 
manity, decreed its utter desolation, so that " the carrion-crow 
in flying over the valley from north to south would be com- 
pelled to carry its own subsistence." 

The distance to the river was but short, and a little after 
break of dawn the column crossed the Potomac by a pontoon 
bridge nearly a mile in length, laid above the dam and opposite 
the lower end of the town of Harper's Ferry. Midway in 
the stream the grandeur of the view was more comprehended. 
Both faces of the Maryland Heights and the piers of the old 
bridge were in full view. The gentle, quiet waters of the Po- 
tomac falliner over the dam-breast were soon lost in the distance 



— IOO — 

as they dashed in their mad rush below, over rock and stone 
and boulder, by Loudon's base on one side and Sandy Hook 
on the other. The famed arsenal ruins and the historic engine- 
house, where John Brown maintained his midnight siege, 
could not be seen except from the Maryland side and on the 
bridge. 

The column skirted through a small thoroughfare running 
at right-angles with the river street and was quickly over the 
Shenandoah by another pontoon, which held its place tena- 
ciously, in spite of the rough and angry waters in which it lay. 
In the bed of the stream were countless rocks, some hidden, 
others in view, against which the swift currents threw the spray 
about in gleesome playfulness. Pushing on vigorously, the 
night's bivouac was made at Hillsboro'. 

The army was again bent on its mission of coercion to en- 
force a submission to a consolidated Union upon the soil of 
the Commonwealth whose deputies inserted in the earliest de- 
liberations of our constitution-makers that the fundamental law 
must express, and not simply infer, that the strength and power 
of the nation was at all times available to coerce refractory 
States. 

Hillsboro', insignificant in size, a little hamlet in Loudon 
county, is a centre where many roads meet ; one, the Leesburg 
pike, was mournfully suggestive of the Ball's Bluff disaster. 
The country hereabouts is rich in its yield of all the products 
of the farm and prolific in poultry, beef, pork and mutton. It 
had not been severely scarred by the devastating hand of war, 
and the granaries, barns, heneries and spring-houses paid 
handsome tribute to the by no means modest demands of the 
soldier, whose penetrating search let nothing escape him. Al- 
though Burnside's corps had preceded us, and foraged liberally, 
ample yet remained to satisfy all. The country rolls in gentle 
undulations of hill and dale, its highly cultivated lands ceasing 
only when the heavily timbered Blue Ridge range, upon the 
western boundary, bars their further reach. A ubiquitous stream, 
known as Goose creek, seemed to penetrate every nook and 



— 101 — 

corner of the county. Inquiry from the inhabitants as to the 
designation of every stream crossed in this vicinity brought 
forth the universal response : " Goose creek." 

The regiment was in sad need of shoes, clothing, canteens 
and haversacks. Requisitions had long been in to meet these 
wants, and an issue was at last made at this point, but not a 
tithe of what was needed. 

On the 2d of November the march was resumed, and con- 
cluded near Snicker's Gap, with the little village of Snickers- 
ville hard by. It was on this day's march that an unwise pig 
took it into its head, or its feet, to run through the lines. A 
breach of discipline like this, and by a pig, was not to be 
tolerated for an instant. A court-martial of one immediately 
convened himself, passed sentence, and executed it. Orders 
against foraging were very strict. As the bayonet pierced his 
side the pig squealed so loudly that the sound brought an 
officer galloping down the line to secure the pig and arrest the 
offender. Before he could reach the spot the pig had been 
divided and concealed, and the men were moving on in excel- 
lent order. 

The country was still fresh and productive, and toothsome 
morsels of poultry, butter and eggs were fitting substitutes for 
the monotonous diet of salt pork and hard-tack. 

The Massachusetts associations in the brigade developed the 
Yankee love of traffic, and the temptation to " barter and trade 
a spell " induced some of the Pennsylvanians to negotiate, more 
to gratify their Yankee friends in an indulgence of their com- 
mercial propensities than with expectation of profit or useful 
investment. The little commodities and trinkets which passed 
in these ventures were of no great value, but the positive re- 
fusal of the Yankees to recognize a credit system compelled 
the men to resort to temporary loans from their officers, whose 
purses, though much depleted, could generally accommodate 
them to a limited extent. 

In a moneyed sense the regiment was miserably poor. The 
31st of October was the bi-monthly day of muster for pay. The 



102 



careful preparation of the pay-rolls, and hearty response of 
those present in answer to their names, was conducive to a be- 
lief that their correct and clerkly appearance and speedy trans- 
mittal might induce the sometimes dilatory paymaster to give 
them a prompt consideration. 

George Slow was the body-servant of one of the officers and 
was quite a noted character in the regiment. He had been the 
slave of a wealthy and distinguished Virginia family, and came 
from the Valley, just through 
the gap. With ninety others 
on the plantation, when the 
war began, his " marster," 
afterwards an officer of the 
Confederate army, set him 
free. He had been prompted 
to this generous act rather 
by the belief that his slaves 
would go their own way any- 
how, than by the conscious- 
ness that freedom was their 
right. Determined to visit 
his old home, he braved all 
the dangers of the trip and 
crossed the mountains to see 
his mistress. She received 
him most graciously and load- 
ed him with gifts of precious 
edibles to bear to those in 
whose service he had enlisted. Several pounds of sweei and 
savory print-butter, a delicacy unknown to army life, were 
especially acceptable. 

An instance of George's unflinching faithfulness occurred at 
the battle of Fair Oaks. He was then employed by an officer 
of the 71st Pennsylvania. As this officer was going into the 
action he passed over to George a few valuables and memen- 
tos, with instructions if he did not return to see that they 




GEORGE SLOW. 






— 103 — 

should reach his family. He did not return and for some time 
George supposed him dead. Subsequently ascertaining he had 
been wounded and taken to Philadelphia, George set himself 
about to reach him. Failing to secure transportation, he started 
to walk the entire distance from the Peninsula. Over wide 
streams, with bridges destroyed, he was compelled to covertly 
snatch a ferriage. Without supplies, except such as he could cau- 
tiously gather from friendly negroes, through a country infested 
by guerillas and where every white man was his enemy, he 
finally accomplished his purpose. To the astonishment of his 
grateful employer, who still lay suffering from his wound, 
George suddenly appeared unannounced at his bedside. The 
faithful fellow continued to act as a tender and devoted nurse 
until the officer had fully recovered. George is now the trusted 
servant of one of Philadelphia's prominent citizens, Mr. Joseph 
E. Gillingham, with whom he has remained continuously since 
the war. 

Before the army left the Gap the feast changed into a famine, 
and rations of any kind were difficult to obtain. Stacks of 
unhusked corn were standing in the field, but even a soldier 
could hardly be expected to eat corn off the cob when the corn 
had become hard enough by exposure to be used for ammuni- 
tion. A soldier's life is a life of emergencies. Difficulties must 
be overcome. One bright wit took the tin from his cartridge- 
box, emptied the cartridges into the box, punched holes in the 
tin with his bayonet and grated the corn with this unpatented 
grater. The others followed his example, and soon corn-cakes 
were being fried, with pieces of fresh pork that came from some- 
where, throughout the camp. 

The shortening November days makes six o'clock in the 
morning a daylight start. It was at that hour on the 6th, 
after the few days' stoppage in the vicinity of Snicker's Gap, the 
march was resumed. 

There was but little personal association with the citizens, 
but the farther into the interior the army advanced, the deeper 
seemed the bitterness of hate towards the Union soldier. There 



— 104 — 

was never any deep love for the enemy, nor abiding affection 
for his aiders and abettors, but the feelings never shaped them- 
selves into personal antipathies or aroused individual dislikes. 
But here the press, the rostrum and the pulpit had taught the 
people that every Northern man was to be personally despised, 
and his society rudely rejected. Manifestations of such dis- 
like had gradually bred, probably in a spirit of retaliation, cor- 
responding antipathies in the soldiery, and the few exchanges of 
personal courtesies with the inhabitants fell off almost entirely. 
The bivouac was made still in Loudon county, near the little 
town of Middleburg, on the farm of one J. W. Patterson, well 
kept and in good condition. 

On the next day's march the fatiguing and laborious duty 
of guard to the wagon-tram fell to the lot of the regiment. 
The trains necessarily require the exclusive use of the road, 
and the troops on their flanks, moving through the fields, over 
brush, bush and every conceivable obstruction, are obliged to 
carve a way for themselves. If the road is free and everything 
clear, the gait is rapid, and infantry are put to their best en- 
deavors to keep pace with their charge. As usual at the start, 
the road was jammed and blocked for several hours, the march 
annoyingly slow, and the delays very harassing. When the 
obstructions were out of the way the speed increased so as to 
tax endurance to its utmost. And' with all the other ills, a 
sudden and unusual taste of winter came along. 

It commenced snowing violently. The country was soon 
covered with its mantle of white, appropriately connecting the 
name of the halting-place, " White Plains," with the general 
appearance of everything. Much of the afternoon was left 
when the halt was made. It was pleasantly passed in enter- 
taining guests from the 119th Pennsylvania, encamped in the 
close vicinity. The generous supplies a prolific country had 
furnished had disappeared entirely, and the much-abused army 
diet, which, when sufficient, was by no means distasteful, had 
become intolerably scant. So seriously did the larder need 
replenishing that the song of " Hard Times, Hard Times, Come 



— 105 — 

Again No More " was appropriately paraphrased in the follow- 
ing refrain : 

" 'Tis the voice of the hungry, crying o'er and o'er, 
Hard-tack ! hard-tack ! Come again once more. 
Many days I have wandered from my little dog-house door, 
Crying, Hard-tack ! hard-tack ! Come again once more." 

The guests had to be satisfied with what was at hand, and their 
providers so impoverished themselves in their entertainment 
that nothing was left for the morning meal, save a small allow- 
ance of coffee. Society chinked the gaps left by the character 
and quantity of the diet and the afternoon waned cheerily. 
The 118th and 119th sprang from the same military parent — 
the then Gray Reserves, now the distinguished 1st Regiment 
of the Pennsylvania National Guard — and there was a hearty, 
cordial fellowship for each other, dominant in both organiza- 
tions. Regimental, State and number designations do not bear 
the same significance to each other as the names of streets and 
numbers of houses in large cities. Unlike such associations, 
adjoining numbers from the same State is no assurance of 
neighborly proximity. So it was here ; the two regiments, as- 
signed to different corps, were usually miles apart. Locomo- 
tion afoot was slow and tiresome, and the wearisome demands 
of daily travel not encouraging to frequent visitations. Such a 
rare opportunity for an exchange of courtesies was much ap- 
preciated, and the visitors left in the early evening with the 
sincere hope that they might be shortly favored with like op- 
portunity for their return. 

On the 8th the march was resumed at seven in the morning, 
and the regiment was assigned as rear-guard, a duty not so 
distasteful as that with the wagons, but by no means to be 
courted. To drive up the habitual malingerer is no disagree- 
able duty, but to urge along the honest soldier, fatigued to real 
exhaustion, arouses a sympathy which is difficult to conquer. 
There happened to be so little straggling on this occasion, and 
the duties of rear-guard being correspondingly light, the charge 



— 106 — 

of the ammunition trains was also imposed upon the regiment. 
Procrastinations and fatiguing delays followed this additional 
detail, and it was ten at night when, supperless and exhausted, 
the bivouac was made near New Baltimore. Under a soft, 
autumn noon-day sun the snow had wholly disappeared. 

Detached service was over and it was with unqualified satis- 
faction the regiment returned to its place in the column, and, 
with the brigade, in comfortable, easy stages, on the 9th, made 
its march to Warrenton. Here it remained for several days. 
Many of the men were without shoes when they struck War- 
renton, and some of the 1 1 8th left the marks of their passage 
to the place in drops of crimson that had oosed from their 
bleeding feet. A few of the men who had straggled unneces- 
sarily were put upon fatigue duty when they reached the camp. 
The then chaplain of the regiment was not reverenced by the 
men. The stragglers were ordered to cut down some trees in 
the camp. One of them fell over the tent in which the chap- 
lain was sitting at a table. It knocked down the tent, the table 
and the chaplain. Shortly after this event the chaplain felt that 
he was called elsewhere, and went back to his home in New 
Jersey. 

Warrenton, the county-seat of Fauquier, a most attractive 
hamlet, was the home of " Extra Billy " Smith, one of Vir- 
ginia's famous statesmen. Water Mountain, a pretentious hill, 
belts it upon one side, and upon the other, in all directions, 
arable lands, cultivated to the highest attainments of Virginia 
farming, were productive of her best results. The residences 
indicated thrift and comfort, tastefully adorned with lawn and 
garden, their foliage fading and grasses withering in the ad- 
vancing autumn. The Warren Green Hotel, the principal hos- 
tlery, in name suggested the one in Pennsylvania, notable as 
the British head-quarters on the night of the Paoli massacre. 
The court-house and jail were substantial structures, in keeping 
in their architecture with the other surroundings. 

A few miles beyond were the Sulphur Springs, a well-known 
watering-place, much resorted to for health and pleasure in the 



— 107 — 

ante-bellum days. Its capacious hotel and adjoining buildings 
and colleges had in some previous occupation of this region 
fallen victims to the flames. 

Three of the officers, Captains Donaldson and Crocker and 
Lieutenant Thomas, remembering the town as the home of the 
parents of Lieutenant J. Rudhall White, so recently killed at 
Shepherdstown, paid them a visit of condolence. They in- 
quired feelingly of the incidents surrounding their son's demise, 
and, though in full sympathy with the enemy, they had still a 
deep and abiding parental affection for their unfortunate off- 
spring, whose patriotism, none of which he had learned at 
home, he had proven to the death in his first engagement. 
The visitors were hospitably entertained to the fullest extent 
from a much-depleted larder. It was typical of all others in 
this section. 

On the 7th a War Department order, not published until the 
ioth, relieved Major-General McClellan from duty in command 
of the Army of the Potomac, and assigned to that duty Major- 
General Ambrose E. Burnside. The publication of this an- 
nouncement had a startling effect. With armies actively in the 
field, sentiment is unknown, the emotional unheard of, and the 
opinions of others barely considered or carelessly dismissed. 
But for McClellan, with the Peninsular army — and the contin- 
gent of 1862 had caught it — there had grown such an enthu- 
siasm and affection that a total severance of his authority 
savored of disruption. No other commander, principal or sub- 
ordinate, ever so captured his soldiers, ever so entranced his 
followers. Sweeping denunciation, violent invective, were 
heaped without stint upon the Government. Subdued threats 
of vengeance, mutterings of insurrection slumbered in their in- 
cipiency ; but, restrained by good sense, patriotism and disci- 
pline, they never reached consummation in overt act. The 
mails teemed with correspondence to friends and relatives at 
home * denouncing the action of the War Department, raging 

* "A sadder gathering of men could not well have been assembled than that of 
the army drawn up to bid farewell to its beloved commander. Our corps was re- 



— io8 — 

at the authorities, and predicting the direst results. Shouts, 
cheers and yells greeted McClellan as he rode along the lines 
and bade farewell to the army. Men could not be held to their 
places, and, breaking from their ranks, gathered about as if in 
the agony of parting from their best and dearest friend. But 
insubordinate sentiment soon yielded to reason, and the Army 
of the Potomac, returning to consistency, was never afterwards 
fluttered by the removals of, or disturbed by changes in, its 
commanders. 

The removal of Fitz-John Porter followed McClellan's on 
the 1 2th. He paraded his corps for his farewell review, and 
for the last time appeared in authority in any military capacity. 

viewed in the morning, and as General McClellan passed along its front, whole 
regiments broke and flocked around him, and with tears and entreaties besought 
him not to leave them, but to say the word and they would soon settle matters in 
Washington. Indeed, it was thought at one time there would be a mutiny, but by 
a word he calmed the tumult and ordered the men back to their colors and their 
duty. As he passed our regiment he was thronged by men of other commands, 
making a tumultuous scene beyond description. He was obliged to halt in front 
of us as Meagher's Irish brigade were pressing on him to that extent that further 
progress was impossible. They cast their colors in the dust for him to ride over, 
but, of course, that he would not do, but made them take them up again. Gen- 
eral , who wns riding near McClellan, was forced by the crowd towards 

our line and I heard him say to a mounted officer close by that he wished to God 
McClellan would put himself at the head of the army and throw the infernal 
scoundrels at Washington into the Potomac. This is history, and I give it here 
to show the wild excitement pervading all branches of the service, from the rank 
and file to the general officers. At 12 M. McClellan met the officers of Fitz-John 
Porter's corps at the latter's head-quarters and bade them good-bye, and as he 
grasped each officer by the hand there was not a dry eye in the assemblage. Be- 
fore parting he made a short address, in which he said his removal was as much 
a surprise to him as it was to the army. But he supposed it was intended for the 
best, and as a soldier he had but to obey. He therefore urged upon us all to re- 
turn to our respective commands and do our duly to our new commander as loyally 
and as faithfully as we had served him. By so doing we would pay him the 
greatest honor, and, as he had only the welfare of his country at heart, he would 
follow with his prayers and good wishes the future career of the grandest army 
this continent ever saw. 

" What do you think of such a man ? He had it in his power to be dictator — 
anything he chose to name — if he would but say the word, but he preferred re- 
tirement rattier than ambition. He was not a Ca?sar." 



— 109 — 

General Daniel Butterfield succeeded to the command of the 
corps, and the place of General Morrell, who had dropped 
away from the division, was filled by Brigadier-General Charles 
Griffin. Colonel Barnes still continued in command of the 
brigade. 

The army had been organized into the right, left and centre 
grand divisions ; to the latter, commanded by Major-General 
Joseph E. Hooker, the 5th Corps was attached. 

On the 15th General Hooker reviewed his entire Grand Di- 
vision, and at the conclusion of the ceremonies, at his head- 
quarters, where he received the officers of the brigade, took 
occasion, with some spirit, to remark that with two such army 
corps he felt that he could march anywhere in the enemy's 
territory and compel the entire Confederacy to do his bidding. 

About this time Colonel Marshall, of the 13th New York, 
from his fierce red whiskers, secured the sobriquet of " Red 
Warrior." An officer of the regular army, a graduate of the 
Academy, he was unbending in his exactions and uncompromis- 
ing with mistakes. He had taken opportunity to throw out a 
cynical slur, rather at than to the regiment, as he passed it on 
one occasion, halted, while his own was moving in column. 
The slur, pronounced loud enough to be heard by every one, 
was prompted by the unsteadiness of his leading company, 
which nettled him so that he contrasted them to the ragged 
Pennsylvania militia. This was a compliment when compared 
with the peculiar phrases which he generously bestowed upon 
those in his own command. The alias clung to him as long as 
he remained with the brigade. His regiment was a two-years 
organization and withdrew at the expiration of its term, about 
the time of the battle of Chancellorsville. 

Shortly after six o'clock on the morning of the 17th, in a 
drizzling rain, the camp in the vicinity of Warrenton was 
broken ; moving through the town, the march continued some 
twelve miles to Elk Run. It was a distressing spot, scarce 
worthy of a designation, upon a narrow, dirty, muddy stream, 
where several great roads met. The concentration of a few 



— I IO — 

houses and barns, and its location upon important public high- 
ways, probably established an identity that made it worthy of a 
name. 

If individual volition had controlled the movement, each 
man would have left this wretched spot at a very early hour the 
next morning. It was otherwise directed. The other divisions 
had the advance and high noon came before the brigade was 
on its way. The drizzles were drenching rains, and the mud, 
deep and loamy, held each footstep with a firm, tenacious grip. 
The soil was Virginia's, but heavy as it then was, the indica- 
tions were but faint as to what the near future should develop 
as real Virginia mud. Soaked and weary, the column found a 
bivouac about six o'clock in some unknown, muddy, watery 
waste, and on the 19th, after a short afternoon march, halted 
for several days at Hartwood Church. In an open, settled 
country, the region was in agreeable contrast with that just 
passed through. The church, during the occupancy of this 
vicinity, became a noted point of stoppage for troops operating 
in the locality. The dreary wilds for so many miles around it 
made it an especially attractive halting-place when circum- 
stances permitted. The interior was without pulpit or seats, 
and on the wall, back of the chancel, was a half-finished war- 
like sketch in charcoal. The story went that the artist, a Yan- 
kee officer, surrounded by a few of his men admiring his skill, 
was interrupted by the enemy's cavalry, and he and his au- 
dience permitted to continue their operations on the walls of 
Libby. 

On the 23d the march was again resumed to the vicinity of 
Belle Plain, a landing on the Potomac near the mouth of Po- 
tomac creek. The gathering of supply and ammunition trains, 
the current accepted belief that the enemy was in strength about 
Fredericksburg, on the other side of the Rappahannock, indi- 
cated a purpose to strike him. 

Stuart's cavalry had developed considerable activity about 
the rear and flanks of the army, and the brigade was sent on 
several wearisome, fruitless tramps in the direction of Hartwood 



— Ill — 

Church to overhaul him. The camps flitted about for some 
weeks within a few miles of each other between Stoneman's 
Switch, Potomac creek and Belle Plain. There were many 
misgivings of disaster if a battle should be fought, and a con- 
viction grew that the winter would pass in quiet. The opening 
guns of Fredericksburg proved the convictions erroneous, and 
the result sent the stricken soldiery back to their cantonments, 
their misgivings fully confirmed. 




CHAPTER V. 

FREDERICKSBURG. 

THERE had been frequent preliminary orders to be in 
readiness to move immediately, to move at a moment's 
notice, to move at once, to move without delay. It was the 
usual phraseology then so familiar and aroused but little com- 
ment, as a soldier was about as ready to move at one time as 
another. They were accompanied by directions to carry five 
days' cooked rations, and the orders, following each other so 
closely, kept that supply continually on hand. 

The thunder of heavy cannonading about four o'clock on 
the morning of the nth of December, followed promptly by 
the " general," dissipated the flippant treatment with which the 
preliminary directions had been received, and, amid some 
bustle and confusion, the regiment was without delay in line, 
awaiting the order to march. 

The sun, great and round, rose ominously red. Camp-fixt- 
ures were to remain standing and the troops to be equipped in 
light-marching order only. The soldiers had not yet conceived 
that much was intended beyond a reconnoissance in heavy force. 
This, though, was one of those hopeful conceptions to drive off 
the notion that there would be a fight. 

The company cooks were metamorphosed ; that is, these 
professional gentlemen had been promoted to the ranks, ex- 
changed their ladles for muskets and cartridge-boxes, and were 
given an opportunity to pepper the enemies of their country 
instead of the bean soup. One of diem, whose rotund form and 
unctuous face made his usual occupation unmistakable, hearing 
the boom of the heavy guns, asked what the noise was. 

He was answered : " The rebel artillery." 
(112) 



"3 




— H4 — 

" You fellers needn't think you can fool me. I've heard 
that noise too often in Philadelphia; they're unloading boards 
somewhere." 

Afterward, when the man of pots and pans heard the screech 
of the shells and saw them falling in the river near the engi- 
neers who were laying the pontoons, he went lumbering to the 
rear as though he had forgotten something, and his oleaginous 
form faded in the distance. 

At seven o'clock the column was in motion, not in the 
familiar direction towards Hartwood Church, but by the 
shortest and most practicable route to Falmouth and the Rap- 
pahannock. Evidences were everywhere abroad of preparation 
for desperate and bloody work. Ambulance trains were parked 
in every direction ; every safe and readily accessible location 
was occupied by hospital tents. Stretchers in unlimited sup- 
ply were being hurried to the front for immediate use. Fresh, 
clean straw, neatly bundled, had been distributed where the 
wounded were to be brought for treatment. The thunder of 
the guns continued in uninterrupted roar. 

The march was soon accomplished. The whole of the Cen- 
tre Grand Division was massed on " Stafford Heights," the 
prominent bluffs on the left bank of the river, commanding a 
full view of the city of Fredericksburg, the stream and the low- 
lands and hills upon the other side. Line upon line, shoulder 
to shoulder, this closely-packed body of men awaited, in quiet 
resoluteness, the order that should send them forward to meas- 
ure strength and courage with their adversaries. It was a 
martial sight. 

The stream, inconsiderable in width, is navigable for steam- 
boats. The water-front of the city extended about a mile, 
with streets at right-angles, lined with substantial brick and 
stone buildings reaching back from the water about half that 
distance. The city lay on a plain away below the heights which 
overlooked it. At the distance of half a mile arose a formidable 
hill, of easy, gentle slope, then modestly known by its owner's 
name as Marye's Heights. It was to become famous as the 



— ii5 — 

scene of most desperate and valorous assaults. Marye's Heights 
were lined with earthworks, planned and constructed by skilled 
engineers, defended by soldiers tried in battle, mounted with 
guns handled by the best artillerists. They appeared almost 
impregnable. The enemy's cannon answered in active response 
to the Union guns. All this was in full view, and as the column 
passed over the bluffs and down to the bridges, all those 
"thinking bayonets " could not but conclude that a direct as- 
sault would be hopeless. 

Whilst the infantry massed about the heights suffered but 
little annoyance from the enemy's artillery, the engineers and 
pontooniers were at a difficult and perilous task. Every house 
on the river-bank had its riflemen, and small earthworks had 
been constructed for others whom the houses could not shelter. 
Each attempt to lay the boats was met with terrific and fatal 
volleys; the loss was appalling. In sheer desperation, the 
afternoon well spent, the engineers, resting from their labor, 
had sought such shelter as could be found at the foot of the 
bluffs and on the edge of the river. The pontoon boats, dis- 
mounted from their wagons, lay useless on the shore. Sud- 
denly bodies of men, pelted as relentlessly as were the engineers, 
rushed to the shore. With commendable precision, regardless 
of their terrible loss, they took the places allotted them in 
the boats and pushed them into the stream. They were rapidly 
pulled across, the galling fire continuing until a landing effected 
upon the other side in a measure silenced it. This brilliant 
achievement of the 7th Michigan and 19th Massachusetts, in 
the presence of the large audience on the bluffs, crowned these 
regiments with enduring fame.* The laying of the bridges 

* There was, probably, no such fighting done during the war in the streets of a 
city as the 19th Massachusetts did in Fredericksburg on the night of December 
11, 1862. Palfry's "Antietam and Fredericksburg" contains a most graphic de- 
scription of it by Captain Hall. The following letter, sent to one of the papers 
by the lieutenant-colonel of the 19th Massachusetts, shows the part that regiment 
took in the assault ; 

" A member of the old fighting 19th handed me a copy of the August Century 
containing General Couch's article on ' Sumner's Right Grand Division,' and, plac- 



— u6 — 












• i 



— ii7 — 

soon followed, but it was late in the afternoon before they were 
fitted for a passage. 

It did not fall to the lot of our division to cross that night, 
and about five o'clock it retired a mile or so for a bivouac near 

ing his finger on that portion of it where the crossing of the river in boats is spoken 
of, said, in tones of bitterness : 'A twinge here,' pointing to what was left of a once 
good leg, 'reminds me that the old 19th was around at that time, and I swear it 
does seem too bad that we should not at least receive a little credit from our com- 
mander at that time.' It may have been an oversight or forgetfulness on the part 
of General Couch, but the incidents of that crossing, so far as the 19th was con- 
cerned, will bear repetition, if for no other purpose than to make history correct. 

" During the bombardment of the morning of the nth, volunteers were called 
for to lead what seemed to be a forlorn hope — to cross the river in open boats un- 
der fire from an opposing line of infantry under cover on the opposite bank of the 
river. Two companies of the 7th Michigan were the first to ferry themselves 
across, followed immediately by the 19th Msssachusetts. The Michigan com- 
panies charged up the river bank, captured some twenty or thirty rebels, and re- 
turned. The 19th charged up the bank by companies, and went on till they 
reached the main street of the town, called Caroline street, and there formed in 
line of battle. Soon after an aide from General Burnside ordered Captain II. G. 
O. Weymouth, commanding the regiment, to fall back with his regiment to the 
river-bank, leaving one company to hold in check any rebel advance of skirmishers 
or sharpshooters. Company D, Captain Moncena Dunn, was left in Caroline 
street, and the remainder of the regiment fell back. The aide, when leaving, told 
Captain Dunn what was expected of him, and said : ' If it gets too hot for you, fall 
back to your regiment.' It was here, while Company D was engaged in resisting 
the rebel advance, that the lamented Chaplain Fuller was killed ; and a reference 
to his ' Memoirs' will explain fully the position at that time. 

" The 19th Massachusetts was, with the exception of the sortie of two companies 
of the 7th Michigan, the only force that had up to that time advanced beyond the 
crest of the river-bank. While Company D was in Caroline street in action, Com- 
panies E and K of the 19th advanced a second time. Company E, Captain Ma- 
hony, filed out to the left of Company D; Lieutenant Hodgkins, with Company 
K, crossed the street to an open lot surrounded by a tight board fence and dis- 
covered the rebel line of battle advancing and reported the same to Captain Dunn. 
The three companies then fell back to the regiment. The 20th Massachusetts 
soon after coming up on the left of the 19th, the two regiments advanced, the 19th 
in line of battle, the 20th in column of companies. The rebel line was met on 
Caroline street, and the 20th Massachusetts, being in close mass, suffered a fearful 
loss of life. Had that regiment been deployed as was the 19th, the loss would 
have been much less. There is no desire to detract one iota of the measure of 
praise to any who were participants in that gallant action, but only to give a cor- 
rect version." — Moncena Dunn, Lieutenant- Colonel igt/i Massachusetts. 



— n8 — 

a spot designated as " White House ; " but whence it derived 
its name is inconceivable, as no settlement was thereabouts and 
nothing observable but a solitary whitewashed shantv. 

Mr. Henry K. Jewell, a well-known citizen of Philadelphia 
and an acquaintance of many of the officers of the regiment, 
opportunely appeared during the afternoon. He was con- 




19TH MASSACHUSETTS FIGHTING IX THE STREETS OF FREDERICKSBURG. 

nected in some civic capacity with the Commissary Depart- 
ment. The soldier rarely knows much that is reliable, except 
what is occurring immediately around him. He gathers his 
information afterwards when the newspapers reach the front. 
Mr. Jewell said the cause of the delay in attacking Fredericks- 
burg was the non-arrival of the pontoons, and also told of 



— ii 9 — 

General Sumner's demand, through General Patrick, on Gen- 
eral Lee, to surrender the city, and its refusal. The story of 
both circumstances subsequently appeared fully in the news- 
papers, and is now historically recorded. The delay in for- 
warding the pontoons has been the frequent subject of severe 
comment and harsh criticism, and it has fallen mostly upon 
General Halleck, on whom it was alleged the responsibility 
rested. 

Jewell was a thoughtful fellow. He had loaded himself with 
canteens, all he could carry, filled to the brim with an excellent 
quality of ardent spirits. He freely and cheerfully distributed 
this among his friends who had the conveniences at hand to 
carry it. It was carefully husbanded, and proved a priceless 
jewel in the next day's engagement, when it was judiciously 
dispensed to many a wounded sufferer. 

At eight o' clock on the morning of the 12th the regiment 
returned to the same spot it had held on the day before. All 
day long the big guns on the bluffs and the field-batteries tore 
away persistently at the enemy's works on Marye's Heights. 
The roar was continuous, but apparently little damage followed 
the cannonading ; certainly none to the entrenchments, though 
it probably caused some loss among the soldiery. Smoke in 
great volumes hung over everything, lifting occasionally, when 
there was a lull in the firing, to permit a cursory observa- 
tion. 

All day long Sumner's Right Grand Division was pouring 
over the pontoons amid a storm of the enemy's shells. The 
enemy seemed to have a pretty fair knowledge of where the 
bridges were, and were tolerably successful in securing the 
range. So close, indeed, did the shells from the Confederate 
batteries fall to the pontoons that the crossing soldiers were 
frequently splashed with the water that flew up from the 
places where they struck the river. It was cooling, but not 
refreshing. 

From the Phillips House, a most pretentious mansion, which 
was General Burnside's head-quarters, staff-officers, at frightful 



120 

pace, were continually coming and going. Night settled 
before things were in complete readiness, and the regiment 
rested where it was, awaiting the breaking of the portentous 
morn. 

Saturday, the 13th, dawned in an almost impenetrable fog, 
so dense that it, with the smoke of the battle, made objects 
close at hand scarcely distinguishable. It was of such density 
that there was a fear that in a close engagement friends might 
be mistaken for foes. To avoid such a contingency the very 
unusual precaution of a word of recognition was adopted, 
and the watchword " Scott " was given to be used in such an 
emergency. 

Between nine and ten o'clock the fog lifted a little, and un- 
folded a scene thrilling in its inspiration and awful in its terror. 
The streets of the city were literally packed with soldiers. 
Glistening rifle-barrels, sombre blue, surged in undistinguish- 
able columns, pressing for the open country to seek some re- 
lief from the deadly plunge of cannon-shots dealing mercilessly 
their miseries of wounds and death. But the same batteries on 
Marye's Heights were again encountered, more frowning and 
formidable than ever, and wicked in their renewed determina- 
tion to punish the temerity that dared assault these formidable 
entrenchments. With such gunnery, fog and smoke settled 
again and the scene was lost to view from Stafford Heights, 
the continuing noise alone indicating the progress of the 
battle. 

Amid all these stirring scenes four officers of the regi- 
ment indulged in a game of euchre. Intent upon their amuse- 
ment, they were lost to the terrors around them, and apparently 
heedless of the greater dangers they were soon to face when 
it should be their turn to be active participants in the pend- 
ing combat. As the game progressed and the interest in- 
creased it was suddenly interrupted by orders that started the 
command on its way to where the battle was the hottest. The 
game was resumed from time to time at the frequent halts that 
occur in the movements of large bodies of troops across narrow 



— 121 — 

bridgeways, and it was not completed until the near approach 
to the action stiffened every nerve to its highest tension. 

Then the custody of the deck became a subject for considera- 
tion. Every one of the quartet tried to convince every other 
one that the best possible thing for him to do was to carry it. 
Unanimously, and finally, it was concluded that, as they were 
fighting for the existence of a republic, it would not be seemly, 
should they fall, to have it transpire that they had been taking 
care of kings and queens. Royalty and knavery were, conse- 
quently, allowed to float down towards the sea on the waters 
of the Rappahannock. 

In these peaceful days, and to those unacquainted with army 
life during an active campaign, this amusement in the face of 
danger might seem stolid and reckless indifference. Not so. 
It passed away the wretched time of waiting, every minute of 
which would otherwise seem an hour, and quieted the nerves 
which would be thrilling with excitement if the mind had 
nothing to dwell upon but the possibilities of the pending battle. 

About one o'clock the regiment was called to attention and, 
with the division, began the movement to the bridges. It was 
tedious, halting and hesitating. The bridges were crowded 
and the streets jammed from the slow deployments under the 
withering fire which met the fresh victims fed to the slaughter, 
as the troops in advance reached the open country. It was but 
a short distance to the bluffs and then the battle in all its fury 
was spread out to view. Upon the slope of Marye's Heights 
were long lines of blue formed with regularity, moving with 
precision, disappearing as speedily as they were seen before the 
furious cannonade and the deadly musketry. Thought was 
rife and expression free with the selfish hope that some effective 
service might be done by those already in to save others from 
the terrible ordeal, revealed in ghastly horror everywhere, 
into the very jaws of which the regiment was about to plunge. 
The futility of open assaults was manifest. The disasters 
which had been plainly seen to follow each other so rapidly 
were wofully dispiriting. But all such hopes were vain. 



— 1 22 — 

About two o clock the regiment entered the town. It had 
been reported that $65,000 worth of tobacco, in boxes, had 
been thrown overboard from the wharf near the pontoons. 
Some of the men belonging to the regiments already in the 
town were diving for and bringing up the tobacco, which they 
sold to their comrades by the box or in job-lots to suit the 
pocket. A cool transaction in December and under the enemy's 
fire. Sergeant Conner, of G, invested $25 in these speculative 
"job lots," and, placing them in his knapsack, essayed to carry 
his purchase until a fitting opportunity was afforded to realize. 
But his venture proved unsuccessful, as he abandoned his knap- 
sack when the regiment assaulted the heights beyond the lines. 

The view from the other side of the river gave but a faint 
conception of what was within the town. On every hand were 
ruin and pillage. The city had been rudely sacked ; house- 
hold furniture lined the streets. Books and battered pictures, 
bureaus, lounges, feather-beds, clocks and every conceivable 
article of goods, chattels and apparel had been savagely torn 
from the houses and lay about in wanton confusion in all direc- 
tions. Fires were made for both warmth and cooking with 
fragments of broken furniture. Pianos, their harmonious 
strings displaced, were utilized as horse-troughs, and, amid all 
the dangers, animals quietly ate from them. There was a mo- 
mentary, irresistible desire to seek some shelter from the havoc 
of the guns in the deserted houses. It was manfully conquered 
and the men heroically held to their places. 

The march was continued under all the dreadful shelling 
along what was apparently the main thoroughfare, which ran at 
a right angle to the river, to a street that crossed it parallel 
with the stream, and on towards the farther edge of the city. 
Turning into this street there was a halt for some time in line 
of battle, closed well up to the sidewalk. Upon the side of the 
street nearest the enemy some protection was afforded from the 
shower of death-dealing missiles that had poured down so re- 
lentlessly from the moment of entering the town ; but bricks, 
window-shutters and shingles, struck by the shells and solid shot, 




ADVANCE THROUGH THE STREETS OF FREDERICKSBURG. 

flew around unceasingly. Opposite the centre, in the rear, 
was a house that had been most roughly handled. It was 



— 124 — 

evidently the residence of some person of culture and refine- 
ment. Several solid shots had passed through the upper rooms 
and a shell, bursting in the library, had made bricks, mortar 
and books a heap of rubbish. A tastefully bound copy of 
" Ivanhoe " which had escaped the wreck tempted the literary 
tastes of an officer, and he picked it up, intending that it should 
help to while away an hour of loneliness in some quieter time. 
Light as was the load, he soon became weary of it and his 
book was abandoned. 

The dashing charge over the level plain, the determined ad- 
vance against breastworks lined with threatening bayonets, the 
splendid resistance to columns of assault, are tests of courage 
and endurance of frequent occurrence. It is seldom, however, 
that the metal of men is tested in column in the crowded 
streets, where there can be no resistance, into which, from un- 
seen positions, the artillery strikes its rapid, telling blows, and 
will not and can not be silenced. Courageous men, well fitted 
to meet in a conflict, the purpose of which is seen, an adversary 
behind his own entrenchments, at his own guns, may well quake 
when submitting unresistingly to continuous punishment in mass, 
where their manhood is lost and their power sacrificed in ap- 
parently hopeless confusion. So, when the soldiers of the 
Right and Centre Grand Divisions passed through such a bitter 
experience of war in the streets of Fredericksburg, and then 
valiantly assailed the formidable heights beyond, they proved 
that the Union soldiery possessed a tenacity and courage equal 
to any standard vaunted in Anglo-Saxon song or story. 

There is scarcely any situation which, however serious, can- 
not sustain the ludicrous. Never do colored servants, except 
in rare individual instances, follow when soldiers are exposed 
to such dangers as the regiment had passed through, and which 
still surrounded it where it had last halted, near the outskirts. 
A romping, rollicking little darkey, who had been christened 
Scipio Africanus, because his qualities were the very opposite 
of those of that distinguished Roman general, was standing upon 
a door which had fallen from its hinges and lay upon the pave- 



— 125 — 

ment, and was grinning and chippering, exposing his pearl-white 
teeth till they resembled, embedded in his ebony jaws, chalk 
upon a blackboard. He was in full view of the entire com- 
mand, who were hugely enjoying his guffaws, wondering 
whether such unusual hilarity, in such a trying situation, was 
not assumed. Suddenly a solid shot whizzed wickedly over 
head, struck the front of a brick house upon the opposite side 
of the street, glanced, flew up into the air and, returning, struck 
violently the other end of the door upon which the boy was 
standing. Up, away up, bounded the darkey, unhurt, but 
scared apparently beyond the recollection that aught was left 
of him. 

It was a ridiculous sight. Shouts and laughter from the 
whole line greeted him as he landed some ten or fifteen feet 
from where he started. He waited for no comments, but, with 
his face' changed almost to a deadly pallor, evidently with no 
conception that he was yet moving of his own volition, disap- 
peared somewhere to safer quarters, not even catching the 
quaint remark which followed him as he flew away : " What's 
de matter wid you, honey ? You's been foolin' wid a torpedo, 
ha?" 

The same shot upset a wooden step and platform in front of 
a house and exposed three small boxes of tobacco that had 
been hidden underneath. There was an instant rush by the 
men to secure the plunder. 

During the halt Colonel Gwyn exercised the regiment for 
some time in the manual of arms, at the conclusion of which it 
was ordered to load. 

The crucial moment was fast approaching. The brigade 
moved off, passing its brigade commander, who was intently 
observing the temper and bearing of his soldiers, back into the 
main highway from which it had been withdrawn for a little 
rest and less exposure. The head the column must have been 
seen ; the rapidity of the firing increased ; the roar was deafen- 
ing; shot and shell screeched in maddening sounds; they fell 
thicker and faster, dropping with wonderful accuracy right into 



— 126 — 

the midst of the column. Every gun seemed trained upon this 
very street ; and so they were, for it was afterwards learned that 
batteries, specially planted for the purpose, raked every high- 
way leading from the river. Soldiers, some malingerers, some 
skulkers, others demoralized, stood behind houses at the corners 
watching the column. Some had been in and had withdrawn 
discomfited and dejected ; others were of the class who gen- 
erally manage to elude danger. Sullen and silent, their con- 
duct was no incentive and their presence no encouragement to 
those not of the sterner sort, who had not yet felt the hot blast 
of the musketry. Two brass guns in action at the end of the 
street were pounding away vigorously and effectively at the 
enemy, the gunners holding heroically to their places in spite 
of the severe punishment they were receiving. 

The Confederate shells performed some curious and fanciful 
gyrations. One in particular fell obliquely, striking in the 
centre of the hard, solid roadway, then ricocheted, struck a 
house, flew up the wall, tore off a window-shutter, then crossed 
over to the other side, striking the house opposite, down again 
into the street, passed back to the other side over the heads 
of Company H, and finally fell upon the steps of the house it 
had first struck and lay there without exploding. This was 
fortunately the case with much of their ammunition, which ap- 
peared to be remarkably faulty. 

It is not to be supposed that the column moved upon the 
highway with the steadiness of a parade occasion. There was 
hesitancy and some unsteadiness, but no dropping out, no 
skulking, no concealment. 

Avoiding the middle of the street, where it was soon ob- 
served the fire was the most direct, and closing to the pave- 
ment, the men held their places with reasonable accuracy and 
moved under the trying circumstances with commendable pre- 
cision. 

As the regiment debouched from the town, upon the edge of the 
closely-built thoroughfare, was a sign, in large black letters: 
" Van Haugen's Variety Store." It had scarcely come into view 



— 127 — 

when a shell burst and tore it to fragments. The pieces of the 
shell and sign fell into the ranks of Company K. Their loss 
was not so serious as that of the 1st Michigan, in the rear, 
where, at about the same time, another shell burst, killing or 
maiming some sixteen of its soldiers, whose startled shrieks 
could be heard above the din and roar of the battle. The 
column now plunged into and waded through the mill-race. 
This was done as quickly as possible, for the Confederates had 
trained a battery on this spot. In the mill-race were noticed very 
many solid shot and unexploded shells, which had evidently 
rolled back into the water after striking the side of the embank- 
ment. Private John Mensing was carrying his piece at " arms 
port : " a shell struck and shivered it to fragments, but beyond 




STONE WALL AT FREDERICKSBURG. 



a severe cut on his right hand he was not injured. Another 
tore off the right arm of Private John Fisher just below the 
elbow and knocked down four sergeants in one company. 
They were more or less bruised and hurt, but none of them 
seriously. 

The right of the brigade had now reached an open level space 
on the left of the road, some four hundred yards in width, as 
well as observation could estimate it. At its farther edge the 
ground rose abruptly, as if the earth had been cut away. This 
perpendicular rise or cut was the extreme base of the slope 
that approached and terminated in the gun-capped Marye's 
Heights. The artillery played with unintermitting vigor. 



— 128 — 

The usual rotations brought the regiment on the right of the 
brigade, on the 13th. It had about covered its front from 
where the right first struck the open plain, where by the " for- 
ward into line " the left was extended into the plain. It was in- 
tended that the right should rest on the road. There was some 
confusion attending the formation, but a line was ultimately 
established pressed close up to the edge of the abrupt rise, over 
which and beyond to the top of the hill everything was in full 
view. Beyond the summit was another elevation, and just be- 
low it a stone fence, lined with rebel infantry, whence the 
musketry rolled unceasingly. 

A board fence, with some of the boards displaced, others 
torn from the top, stood between the abrupt rise and the stone 
fence, nearer to the latter. It had evidently greatly retarded 
the previous advances and what was left of it was yet in the 
road to impede others. 

Humphrey's division had just charged up the hill, and, al- 
though they had failed to carry the heights, hundreds of men 
lay prone upon the ground in fair alignement, apparently too 
spirited to withdraw entirely from their futile effort. It seems 
scarcely credible, but a closer inspection showed all these men, 
apparently hundreds in number, to be killed or too seriously 
wounded to move. 

The regiment still hugged the ground closely where it had 
first established its line. Instinctively, in taking up a movement 
indicated by an advance by another portion of the line, for the 
terrible roar drowned the voice of command, it began its des- 
perate work of assault. Under the appalling musketry and 
amid great disorder, the advance was maintained with reasonable 
regularity to a brick-yard,* with its kiln standing, through which 
tore shot and shell, and from which bricks flew in every direc- 
tion. The little shelter afforded by the kiln had enticed the 
wounded within its reach to crawl to it for cover, and their 
mangled, bleeding forms lay strewn everywhere, closely packed 



*John P. Knight's. 




MAP OF FREDERICKSBURG, SHOWING POSITION OF THE 118TH. 



— 129 — 

together. Sweeping by this, right into the very mouth of the 
cannon, upward and onward the advance continued to the board 
fence. The fence was about five feet high, of three boards, with 
intervals between them. Opposite the centre and right, the 
boards had been torn off down to the one nearest the ground. 
The fatality that had followed the delay in their removal was 
marked by the bodies of the dead lying there, one upon 
another. To the left, the boards still remained ; the men hero- 
ically seized and tore them all away, some climbing over. 
Thinned out, exhausted, with energies taxed to their limit, in 
the face of such fearful odds, instinctively the line halted. 

Major Herring here received a ball in his right arm. He 
was sitting on his horse at the time. As the ball struck him, 
some one said, " This is awful ! " " This is what we came here 
for," quietly replied the major, as he dismounted. Subse- 
quently, another ball passed through his left arm, and buck- 
shot through his coat. At nightfall, his wounds needing sur- 
gical attention, he was forced to go to the hospital for treatment. 
He made several efforts to reach the front again, but his 
strength failed him. It was feared amputation would be nec- 
essary, but he insisted upon conservative surgery, and it saved 
him his arm. The absence of his strong directing mind at 
such a critical time was a serious misfortune. 

From the place of the halt to the stone fence, behind which 
belched the deadly musketry, was between two and three hun- 
dred feet. At that distance, halted with little or no cover, such 
punishment was unbearable. 

There was still about two hours of daylight. Some two hun- 
dred yards to the left, but no greater distance from the stone 
fence, there was decidedly better cover, and to this undulation, 
broad enough to include the entire regimental front, the com- 
mand was moved within a few moments from the time it had 
halted. Colonel Barnes, commanding the brigade, rode the full 
length of the line before it started, calling to the men to fall in. 
Although in full view of the Confederates, and the target for 
their shots, he escaped injury. 



— 130 — 

It seems remarkable that men could live at all that close to 
the enemy's lines, but there the regiment remained all that 
night, all of Sunday's daylight and well into the night, suffering 
but few casualties, and those happening principally when neces- 
sity forced exposure, or temerity prompted rashness. But 
safety was only found in hugging the ground as tight as a 
human body could be made to hold on to the earth. Dark- 
ness was a relief from the stiff and uncomfortable postures, 
but during those ten or twenty hours of that winter's daylight, 
there was no safety except with bodies prone and flattened to 
their fullest length. A raise of the head, or a single turn not 
unfrequently proved fatal. 

Just as the day was closing a regiment advanced immedi- 
ately to the rear of where the command lay. It had been or- 
dered to charge the works, and had got thus far on its mission, 
but had no one to conduct it farther. All its officers had disap- 
peared ; its men, hopeless as was their task were even yet anxious 
to fulfil it. Colonel Gwyn, informed of its situation, and under- 
standing its anxiety to still go forward, valiantly stepped to its 
front and centre, and gallantly tendered his services to lead it 
on. Colonel Barnes, comprehending the fruitless purpose of 
the undertaking, forbade it, and ordered the regiment to retire 
to some convenient shelter and await the further directions of 
its brigade commander. This it was not disposed to do, but 
mingled with the others on the front line, and remained with 
them until they were withdrawn. 

The combat ceased with the night. Its lengthening shadows 
were gratefully hailed as a relief from the terrors of a day of 
suffering and death. 

In getting to the front, one of Company H's men had been 
severely wounded, but had managed to crawl up to his com- 
pany. After nightfall some of his comrades got a stretcher 
and carried him into the town. Leaving him at one of 
the improvised hospitals, the men started in search of quar- 
ters, intending, for one night at least, to sleep with a roof over 
their heads. A corner store, with a dwelling above, seemed a 



— i3i — 

suitable place. But doors and windows were fastened. An 
entrance, by the aid of a couple of bayonets, was soon effected. 
A newspaper was produced and lighted, dropping pieces of half- 
burned paper as the party passed through the store into the 
back room, searching for a candle. One was found in a candle- 
stick, lighted, and a reconnoissance in force was made, to dis- 
cover what the enemy had left. Returning to the store, the 
party found, right in the track of the burned paper, an unex- 
ploded shell. The precious thing was picked up very care- 
fully, and put tenderly away in a closet. An iron teakettle was 
found in the house, a well in the yard, and clapboards on the 
building. These helping, a steaming pot of coffee was made 
and drunk. Then, alternately mounting guard, the party in- 
dulged in a luxurious sleep, with bare boards for feathers, and 
starting betimes, reached the front again before daylight. 

Sunday morning broke bright and clear. Just as the day 
dawned the men at the front, who had been sleeping as best 
they could, rose and walked up and down briskly to warm their 
chilled blood. The whole line seemed to be in motion. Sud- 
denly, without the least warning, the Confederates poured in 
upon them a heavy volley. Every man promptly dropped to 
the ground. In one place they were crowded together too 
closely for comfort. Beyond, a man who, with the cape of his 
overcoat over his head, was apparently asleep, there was room 
for two or three. 

" Wake him up, and tell him to move along," some one cried. 
The soldier next to him gave him a shake, and said : 

" I can't, he's too fast asleep." 

" You must." 

The soldier pulled the overcoat cape back, intending to give 
him a vigorous shake. As he uncovered the head, the color- 
less side-face, and a triangular hole in the neck told the tale. 
He was sleeping his last sleep. He must have been struck by 
a shell the day before, and fallen just where he lay, and some 
comrade's hand had thrown the cape over his head to hide the 
ghastly wound. 



— 132 — 

If there was remembrance of the Christian Sabbath, there 
was no recognition of its religious observances. There was no 
pealing organ, chiming bell, nor tuneful orison. The city was 
a charnel-house, its churches and its dwellings hospitals, and 
its streets rumbling with vehicles and crowded with stretcher- 
bearers carrying the wounded sufferers. Save where the words 
of prayer ministered to the ebbing life of the dying soldier, 
there was naught to indicate that the day was the Lord's, set 
apart by Him for His people's rest and the observance of His 
holy ordinances. 

The cannonading ceased. The cannon, that for three days 
had thundered so incessantly, had opportunity to cool, and the 
gunners rested from their unceasing toil. The quiet — there 
was no noise save from the occasional discharge of a musket — 
was in striking contrast to the continuous roar that had pre- 
ceded it. 

Fortunately the rigors of winter weather had not yet arrived. 
Save from the constrained position of their bodies, and the 
want of water, the men of the regiments in the front line suf- 
fered no discomfort and but little loss. There was still sufficient 
in the haversacks for nourishment, but all looked longingly for 
the night to come. There was scarcely any firing from the 
Union side, save where some one more daring than his fellows 
would rise in his place, discharge his piece, and quickly seek 
cover again. They frequently suffered for their exposure. 

Sergeant Geo. W. Stotsenberg, of Company K, turned the 
cartridges out of his box into his cap, loaded, knelt upon one knee 
waited, and, whenever a head appeared above the stone wall, 
blazed away at it, and reloaded. He kept his position for more 
than two hours, and though the bullets sang about his ears and 
ploughed little furrows in the ground before him, he was not 
even touched. 

Captain Crocker could not long brook this forced restraint. 
He had suffered greatly from his close confinement. Angered 
beyond endurance at the foe who kept him thus confined, he 
threw a taunting menace in their teeth. About noon, saying 



— 133 — 

naught to any one, he rose suddenly from his place, seized the 
colors, advanced vvith them a few paces to the front, and 
jammed the staff well into the ground, shaking his fist 
angrily and firing a round of epithets in no polite or cultured 
strain. His greetings were responded to in language equally 
cultured, accompanied by a volley of balls. His temerity lost 




CAPTAIN LEMUEL L. CROCKER. 



him nothing except the emptying of his canteen, which was 
struck. Lieutenant Kelley, who was close beside him, observed 
the contents escaping to the ground, and before Crocker was 
aware of what he was losing, rose to his knees, placed the hole 
to his lips, and drained whatever remained to the dregs. Kelley 
got a " ball," if Crocker did not. 



— 134 — 

Captain Bankson was not to be outdone by this daring feat 
of Crocker's, and he followed with one of like temerity. He 
left his place, proceeded to where the colors had been planted, 
seized them, waved them several times defiantly at the enemy, 
and then returned. A similar salute of musketry greeted him, 
but he, too, escaped unharmed. 

It has been observed that the human voice was sometimes so 
drowned by the din of battle that the utterance of commands was 
useless. Successful obedience only followed close observance 
and apt attention. Any inattention or failure to comprehend what 
was likely to be done frequently separated the best of soldiers 
from their commands. A misunderstanding resulting from 
this condition of things happened in the regiment at its halt just 
beyond the board fence. The attention of some was momenta- 
rily distracted, more particularly by the casualties that there 
befell some of the best men. In what appeared but an instant, 
the regiment had moved by the left flank to a position three 
hundred yards away, where it remained during the rest of the en- 
gagement. Those who had not observed the movement were 
left where they were. The first conclusion was that the regi- 
ment had withdrawn entirely. There was considerable confusion, 
and the soldiers of one command intermingled with others. 
Nor was it possible to distinguish organizations, as the men 
were flattened tight to the earth, with their faces downward. 
They might recognize any one standing up, especially because 
few were in such position, but for one who stood to recognize 
those who were lying, was an impossibility. This impossibility 
of recognition was a further difficulty in the way of removing 
the conviction that there had been a formal withdrawal. 

In the full assurance that their belief was well founded, those 
who had been left retired for a better cover to the rear of the 
brick-kiln. There, rumors from the town that the regiment had 
been seen in the city confirmed their belief, and they remained 
awaiting a favorable opportunity to rejoin it. To attempt it just 
then was an invitation for a volley, and a great personal risk, 
which, as the regiment was believed not to be engaged, the oc- 
casion did not seem to demand. 



— 135 — 

As the detachment lay behind the kiln, an officer was noticed 
approaching them, oblivious to all the dangers around him, 
shot at by volleys, aimed at singly, coolly stopping to examine 
the faces of the dead he passed, moving with deliberation and 
ease. He finally safely reached the cover of the kiln wall. It 
was Lieutenant William Wilson, of Company A. He reported 
that as the regiment left the city he had become separated from 
it, and had ever since been employed in a hopeless search for it. 
He was told of the misfortune which had happened to the 
detachment, the conviction that the regiment had been with- 
drawn, and the apparent confirmation by the stories that had 
come from the town, and he was advised to remain where he 
was. This did not, however, satisfy him. He said he had met 
a number of the men, but had not yet seen the field-officers and 
colors, and as he had pretty faithfully hunted the city, he was 
determined to prosecute his search further at the front. 

In a few moments he left and was again exposed to the same 
startling dangers. Volleys upon volleys greeted him, but alone, 
bold and erect, a most inviting target, bent upon his purpose, 
he continued his errand and disappeared from view still unhurt. 
It was an exhibition of splendid heroism. By mere accident 
he reached the position which the regiment occupied, but was 
unaware of it until he was recognized and hailed by his name. 

That the others, had they been convinced that the regiment 
was still at the front, would all willingly have faced every 
danger and rejoined it, was never doubted. Their mistake 
was their misfortune, and no adverse criticism was ever made 
upon the officers and men who composed the detachment by 
their more fortunate comrades whose better fortune kept them 
with the colors. Their disappointment, when they discovered 
where their mistake had led them, bore upon them weightily, 
and the reflection that they had not shared all the glories of a 
well-fought fight was only tempered by the consciousness that 
a misunderstanding, and not their purpose, had prevented it. 

As has been noticed, when the brick kiln was passed on the 
advance, wounded, more than could be covered, were in indis- 



— i3 6 — 

criminate confusion about it, and since then the number had 
sensibly increased. If there were any on hand to administer re- 
lief the force was wholly inadequate to the occasion. Strangely, 
large numbers of blocks of ribbon were scattered around. 
How they came there was inconceivable, nor was there any dispo- 
sition to inquire. Their usefulness was soon apparent. Gener- 
ous hands quickly unwound the blocks, and tenderly, it may be 
awkwardly, applied the ribbon to wounds gaping, exposed and 
yet untreated, and bandaged hurts, possibly nearing fatality 
from want of care. But whether life was saved or not, it was a 
comfort and consolation for kindly hands to minister to those 
pressing needs. 

During the time the detachment was at the brick-kiln another 
advance appeared, moving up the hillside. One regiment, with 
its commandant gallantly riding in its front, maintained a most 
excellent alignement. It preserved its shapely formation until 
just in rear of the brick-yard, when the commanding officer 
fell seriously wounded. Three of his soldiers bore him away 
and his command then seemingly disappeared entirely. The 
organization whose splendid line had attracted such universal 
admiration was the 5th New Hampshire ; the commandant 
who had fallen so valiantly at its front and centre was its col- 
onel, Edward E. Cross, who, wounded at Fair Oaks, had re- 
turned to add to the laurels he had won on the Peninsula. 

With this advance appeared a battery of twelve-pound Na- 
poleons. It had scarce unlimbered before every horse and 
rider fell. The men left without firing a shot. The officers 
remained a moment gesticulating violently, apparently endeav- 
oring to enforce the return of their men, and then they too dis- 
appeared and the deserted guns alone remained. No guns could 
be served at such a point and no gunners could live in such ex- 
posure. It seemed madness to have ordered a battery in action 
there. 

Among those who fell from the officers of the brigade was 
Captain J. Benton Kennedy, of the 1st Michigan. A solid shot 
terribly shattered his thigh, and, lingering a few days, he died 



— 137 — 

in a house in the city. He was generous, courteous and 
courageous. On intimate terms with the officers of the 1 1 8th, 
his loss was deeply regretted. 

The detachment at the brick-kiln gradually drew off to the 
city and collecting about the outskirts moved after dark to the 
river-bank, where it bivouacked for the night. After daylight 
communication with the front was again wholly cut off and it 
was impossible for them to rejoin their fellows ; nor was it 
necessary, as the fight had subsided to an indifferent sort of a 
skirmish, with no prospect of an assault by the enemy. The 
bivouac was consequently maintained until the command was 
retired from the front line. 

Shortly before ten o'clock on Sunday night the regiment 
was relieved from its perilous and trying post at the extreme 
front and withdrawn to the bivouac on the river-bank, where 
the missing detachment was. Here it remained during Mon- 
day. A little after noon General Burnside and his staff rode 
down to the bridge and passed over. There was always a 
kindly feeling for Burnside, but now his presence stirred no en- 
thusiasm ; his appearance aroused no demonstration. It may 
have been a coincidence that, as he rode by, he drew his hat 
further down over his face. Unuttered thoughts were rife that 
somebody had seriously blundered. But sadly and silently the 
men viewed their commander, with the deepest consideration 
for the anxiety and solicitude which at that moment must have 
almost overwhemed him. 

At dusk the brigade started for the front again. It took a 
position on the highway at the farther end of the city, as it was 
subsequently learned, to cover, with other troops, the with- 
drawal of the entire army to the other side of the river. Abso- 
lute quiet was cautioned and conversation forbidden. That 
silence might be maintained strictly, the rattling of the tin-cups 
was prevented by removing them from the belts. It was a 
weird and woful night. The wind blew a gale, fortunately 
directly from the enemy, and, with the extreme quiet prevail- 
ing in our lines, voice and noise were distinctly audible in 



- 138- 

theirs. Window-shutters banged and rattled, and shots rang 
out frequently on the picket-line. An attack was momentarily 
expected and every one was ready to resist the anticipated 
assault. 

In the rear of the centre of the regiment was J. H. Roy's 
drug store. Within all was impenetrable darkness, but there 
came from it continually the sound of breaking glass. All the 
dangers could not deter the pilfering soldier. Groping about 
for something desirable, a whole shelf of bottles would fall at 
once, creating a tremendous rattle, penetrating in the extreme- 
quiet, scattering their contents in every direction. Repeated 
orders were given to arrest these purloiners, but the seizure of 
one would speedily be followed by the approach of another 
in the darkness readily eluding the guard. His presence would 
soon be known by another smashing of glassware. An officer, 
annoyed beyond restraint, rushed in himself and seized a ma- 
rauder with a bottle in his hand. Violently shaking himself 
loose and escaping, the man left a bottle in the officer's hand 
which, on bringing to the street, he discovered to be labelled 
"Ayer's Cherry Pectoral." This he put in his pocket, but, 
soon forgetting it, resumed his place on the cellar-door, where 
he had been previously resting, and shivered the bottle to frag- 
ments. The contents, of a sticky consistency, soaked his 
clothing. 

About four o'clock in the morning there was a sudden call 
to attention and a rapid movement to the lower end of the town. 
The officer who brought the order to retire indicated the wrong 
direction. Pretty much everything had been withdrawn and 
all movements required alacrity, but, reaching the river at the 
point where the officer conveying the order directed, the bridge, 
which had been there was found to have been removed. The 
brigade was the last to cross ; daylight was close at hand and 
the mistake threatened disaster. The column was counter- 
marched with amazing rapidity and headed for the centre 
bridge. It, too, was in course of removal, but the engineers 
hurriedly replaced the planks and, in the midst of a drenching 



— 139 — 

rain, which then began to fall, the column crossed to the other 
side. Day was just breaking when the movement was com- 
pleted. 

Fredericksburg was fought and lost. The Army of the Po- 
tomac, battered about and abused, had become indifferent to 
results. A victory, where the enemy was pursued, routed or 
brought to terms, it had never been theirs to achieve. After a 
battle it therefore accepted a withdrawal or advance with equal 
complacency, maintaining the consciousness that it had done 
all men could do to accomplish a designated purpose. But 
always before it had administered punishment commensurate 
with what it had received. There was a conviction, at least 
with the troops thrown against the works on Marye's Heights, 
that such was not the result at Fredericksburg. It was too 
apparent, even to the obtuse observer, that the heavy sufferers 
on that fatal hillside were the soldiers who assaulted, and not 
the soldiers who defended. It was too plain that for the multi- 
tude of dead and wounded who covered its slope no corres- 
ponding number of disabled soldiery lay behind the powerful 
entrenchments. It was this conviction, when they found the 
end had come, that lifted men to a buoyancy and relief that in 
all their other experiences they had never known before. They 
trod the left bank of the river again freer, brighter, better, in 
the full realization that their three days of woful work had 
terminated, and no matter how, glad that the terrible affair was 
over. 

The loss of the Federal army was 1,180 killed, 9,028 
wounded, and 2,145 missing, and on the part of the Confed- 
erates it was 5,309 killed, wounded and missing. 



CHAPTER VI. 



WINTER-QUARTERS — RICHARDS FORD 
RECONNOISSANCE — MUD MARCH. 

N the cold, heavy winter rain the 
regiment returned to its old camp- 
ing-ground. Roaring fires blazed 
in the woods, the wind sang cheer- 
lessly through the tall, sombre pines, 
and the fatigues of disastrous Fred- 
ericksburg were mellowed by the 
stories of personal experiences that, 
in the multitude of incidents, had 
escaped general observation. 

Invigorating, inspiring winter 
weather followed the storm, the 
cheery sound of axe and hammer 
resounded through the timber, and 
a well-planned military town of sub- 
stantial, roomy log houses, with roofs of canvas, took the place 
of the irregular village of narrow and contracted shelter-tents. 
Quartered on the southerly slope of a hill-side in a tall, 
clean-limbed " pinery," exposure to storms and wintry winds is 
tempered to a sort of drawing-room softness and fireside warmth. 
The soldiers fortunate enough to be so located, had a decided 
advantage over those on the bleak hill-tops or open plain. 
Such was the good fortune of the command in the location of 
their house and home for the winter of 1 862 and spring of 1 863. 
The timber was free from underbrush, the sod was smooth, the 
ground even, and over it the falling pine needles had woven a 
soft, springy carpeting. 

(140) 




— 141 — 

To the rear was the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac 
Railway, that bore the supplies from the Acquia creek landing 
to the front near Falmouth. The frequent movement of the 
trains was a daily reminder that, although hidden away in deso- 
lated Virginia, it was an easy, speedy journey to civilizing so- 
ciety and cultured homes. The majestic bridge across Potomac 
creek, that flowed by the rear of the encampment, was in full 
view. This was a marvellous piece of enterprising engineering. 
A trestle ioo feet in height had been rebuilt in two or three 
days, of pines placed one upon the other, firmly and securely 
braced together. It stood the test and did the work without 
break or accident from December, 1862, until June, 1863.* 

Evergreens and boughs were skilfully utilized for decoration. 
They lined walks and avenues through the camp, and fenced 
yard-like enclosures about the officers' quarters. Pines and 
boughs bore the name and number of the regiment. Within 
the enclosure, all things were attractively arranged for true 
comfort and convenience. 

* General Haupt says : " I cannot give the date of the building of the first 
bridge across this stream, but it was just before Jackson's raid in Shenandoah 
valley and McDowell's movement in pursuit of him to Front Royal. The bridge 
was finished about 12, midnight. Early next morning President Lincoln, with his 
Cabinet, passed over it to hold a conference with McDowell at Falmouth. On his 
return, he remarked to members of Congress that he had seen the most remarkable 
structure that human eyes ever rested upon. • That man General Haupt has built 
a bridge ioo feet high and 400 feet long across Potomac creek, upon which the 
trains to supply the army are moving every hour, and upon my word, gentlemen, 
there is nothing in it bnt bean-poles and corn-stalks.' I was present at the con- 
ference at Falmouth, in at least the latter portion of it. McDowell said to the 
President that Shields' corps had just come in from the valley, but were without 
shoes and clothing, which could not be issued before Saturday (about two days 
ahead), and that the movement against the enemy could not be commenced before 
Sunday, but knowing the objections of the President to initiating military move- 
ments on Sunday, he would defer to his judgment and allow him to fix the time. 

" The President sat in silence for a few minutes and then replied : ' Well, Gen- 
eral, I'll tell you what to do: take a good ready, and start early Monday morning.' 
It was so ordered, but Jackson's raid changed the programme, and on Monday we 
were moving by forced marches on Front Royal to intercept him. The Potomac 
creek bridge was destroyed and rebuilt several times." 



— 142 — 

Wood was abundant, and each hut unsparingly supplied its 
huge open fire place, when the severity of the weather de- 
manded it. At first the camp was surrounded by a far-reaching 
forest. Day by day the line of trees receded, as they were 
felled to supply the enormous demand for building and for 
fuel, until, before the spring weather set in, the chopped wood 
had to be carried fully a mile. The quarters of the men were 
all of the same general design and appearance, but their interior 
comforts and ornamentation were excellent or indifferent, as the 
occupants happened to be handy or careless. The wide, open 
fireplace, with timber-chinked, clay-lined, and barrel-topped 
chimney was universal ; its cheery light and roaring blaze, a 
generous welcome from the cutting blasts and furious storms 
that were frequent through the season. Occasionally one of 
these chimneys, none of which had been built according to 
specifications or examined by the inspector of buildings, would 
take fire from a " defective flue," and become an object of interest 
and pleasure to all but the occupants. Old story — total loss ; 
no insurance. 

Amusements, if not varied, were plentiful and attractive. A 
lonely female, by name if not in person, was in constant attend- 
ance. Though continually addressed, she never seemed to 
appear, but the response to the frequent calls for " ante " kept 
the game going on, and the participants were doubtless better 
satisfied than if a real auntie had responded to the summons. 
But she was coy and coquettish, and when too frequently sum- 
moned without a corresponding replenishment from a successful 
" draw," would silence her unlucky nephews and return them 
to their quarters broken and despondent, their season of recu- 
peration to be the intervals between the visits of the paymaster. 
The credit system, which was generally introduced, prevented 
total abandonment of such amusement ventures, and a reason- 
ably fair rating enabled the discomfited operator to borrow suf- 
ficient to continue his speculations until his depleted exchequer 
was repleted by the coming of the ever-welcome little black 
safe of the pay department. 



— 143 — 

The " pack " and "deck" had use and purpose in many other 
forms, where the absence of the " ante " did not require accom- 
modation from the " uncle." In fact, cribbage, whist and 
euchre, games of more culture and less risk than " poker," had 
decidedly the larger following. 

But other resources were at command. Literature, in- 
structive and entertaining, was readily attainable, and books, 
song and story varied the monotony of the manipulation of the 
ever-present " pack." Courtesies to dine and sup were fre- 
quently interchanged, and postprandial speech and humor did 
their full share to speed along the rapidly disappearing winter. 
Menu, service and table furniture, naive and original, equalled 
the occasion, and the warm and hearty sympathies of host and 
guests for each other and the cause, supplied the absence of 
more cultured appointments. 

All the time was not for pleasure. It was only the long 
winter nights, and days too stormy for outdoor exercises, when 
the pleasure-seeker subordinated business to his amusements. 
The winter's instruction was prolific of much good. No oppor- 
tunity was lost for open-air exercises in drills by company, bat- 
talion, or as skirmishers. The rudiments, which had been 
hurried through in the urgency of active operations, were now 
most thoroughly instilled. Minor details, which had escaped 
attention in the forced preliminary training, were intelligently 
taught and successfully remembered. The importance of a 
strict observance of the delegated duties and responsibilities 
belonging especially to non-commissioned officers was properly 
explained, and when the season was over, each knew his duty 
thoroughly and did it well. 

Nothing better promotes discipline than the maintenance of 
military etiquette. It secures the necessary distinction between 
the officer and enlisted man, but while essential to secure 
respect and sustain authority, it neither elevates the one nor 
degrades the other. 

Surprising progress was made in this essential. The military 
salute was unflinchingly exacted, courteous and prompt response 



— 144 — 

to interrogation always demanded, and commissioned officers 
were rarely addressed by subordinates except when invited or 
permitted. These and all other minutiae of a like character, 
after careful training, were readily accepted and understood as 
essential rudiments in the successful maintenance of a military 
establishment. A novel incident, the result of these teachings, 
happened to an officer. He found it necessary to make a cum- 
bersome purchase from the sutler. In the absence of some one 
to carry his burden, he selected a time when every one was 
likely to be housed, and took an unusual route to his quarters, 
so as to avoid meeting any of his men, who he was satisfied would 
force him, with both his arms loaded, to return their salute. 
One company street seemed wholly deserted. Freighted as he 
was, he boldly entered it. His movements had been carefully 
watched, and the entire company suddenly emerging from their 
quarters, arranged themselves standing at " attention," each man 
extending the customary salute. There was no alternative ; the 
salute must be returned ; so deliberately depositing his burden, 
the officer assumed the position of a soldier, acknowledged the 
salutation, again resumed his load, and the men still retaining 
the attention, he passed beyond their view and reached his 
destination without further interruption. The spirit prompt- 
ing this action was an intimation that, as men were at all 
times required to be in suitable shape to exchange cour- 
tesies, officers themselves should be careful to observe like 
conditions. 

The process of weeding out incompetents, after trial had 
shown their inefficiency, usual with all organizations, was 
severely pursued in this. Some who volunteer from purest pa- 
triotism will, from physical cause, from distaste for the labors, or 
from a total incapacity to accommodate themselves to the usages 
and habits of a soldier-life, become a burden to the service and 
useless for the purposes of war. Others, drones and malingerers 
from the beginning, are not worth the cost of their maintenance. 
While others still, who with honest and faithful intent try to 
overcome their fears, cannot command the courage of the battle- 




^ 




Hon. A. O. Cattell, 



— 145 — 

front. The services of these, and all such as these, were dis- 
pensed with, and the better element alone retained. 

To march with precision, manceuver with accuracy, to step in 
soldierly length and cadence, with body erect and shoulders 
square, in the ranks or out of them, in gait and carriage, always 
to show the results of a soldier's tuition, are acquirements which 
patience, study, time and attention must accomplish. But when 
men have passed the years when aptitude for new teachings is 
not so great as in earlier days, and previous instruction had 
been limited to a few months amid the frequent interruptions of 
storms and bad weather, the difficulty was much increased, and 
there still remained to be instilled a thorough comprehension 
of discipline and obedience. 

These appeal more directly to the intelligence of men than 
the physical exercises of the drill and the manual. When the 
encampment at Stoneman's Switch terminated, the Corn Ex- 
change had acquired a degree of excellence in soldierly accom- 
plishments that rated it for tactical knowledge, discipline, 
courage and endurance, as a standard organization of American 
volunteers. To attain that eminence, in such a body, was no 
mean acquisition. The American volunteer, whose generous, 
impulsive patriotism strengthens as his service lengthens, whose 
difficulties are overcome by his patience and obstacles sur- 
mounted by his endurance, who has never yielded his ground 
or lost his line except to soldiers of his own race, is the 
typical soldier of modern civilization. It was such a standard 
the 1 1 8th Pennsylvania Volunteers had deservedly attained; 
this high distinction it had justly earned. 

The terrible wound received by Colonel Prevost com- 
pelled him to be absent until just before the battle of Chan- 
cellorsville. During his absence, Lieutenant-Colonel Gwyn 
had continuous command. Colonel Gwyn was intelli- 
gent, of fair tactical acquirements, and ambitious to secure 
for his regiment the reputation it earned. But he was unhap- 
pily liable to be influenced by violent and unjust prejudices. 
While he was courteous and obliging to his friends, he too often 



— 146 — 

acted oppressively and with wholly unwarranted severity towards 
others whom he conceived to be unfriendly to him. Some 
of the most manly spirits in the regiment were crushed by this 
oppressive conduct. They submitted uncomplainingly to in- 
justice and oppression, rather than bring disgraceful criticism 
upon the command by an exposure of its internal disorders. 

The 5th Corps covered the right flank of the army, during 
the winter, and the average distance from the camps to the 
picket-line was some ten miles. 

The picket head-quarters was a grand old Virginia mansion, 
with houses for the servants near. Its occupants boarded the 
officers commanding the line, and the preparation of the family 
dinner was something wonderful to Northern eyes. 

In the first place there was the fireplace, broad and deep, 
like Virginia hospitality. Then there were the Dutch ovens, 
of all sizes, of the same pattern as those in which the dinners 
of the Stuyvesants and Van Dams and Vander Bilts and their 
Dutch ancestors were cooked. As the stout and dignified 
black cook began the preparation of the varied dishes intended 
for the meal, a colored boy, whom she confidentially told her 
auditors, in his absence at the wood-pile, " wasn't wuff noffin' 
since dem Yanks come," piled about twenty heavy sticks of 
cordwood upon the massive andirons, threw some dry light- 
wood on the coals beneath, and, by the aid of a pair of bellows 
and a line or two of a negro song, blew the fire into a brisk 
blaze. While the logs cracked and snapped and roared the 
cook and her assistant were busy cleansing, stuffing and truss- 
ing the chickens, getting the mutton, vegetables, corn-pones 
and bread and all the other necessaries and dainties of a dinner 
ready. As stick after stick of the hickory wood cracked in 
the centre, the ends were put on the fire by the boy, until the 
centre of the fireplace was a mass of living coals. Some of 
these were raked out, by means of an iron rake, upon the great 
brick hearth, and over them the Dutch ovens, little and big, 
were set. One contained corn-bread, another mutton, another 
chickens, and so on. The covers were put upon the ovens, 



— 147 — 

and shovelfuls of coals heaped upon the covers. The dusky 
presiding genius seemed to know just the right moment 
to turn, or baste, or take up ; and while a French chef might 
wriggle himself out of shape through horror at so primitive a- 
\ method of cooking, her sable majesty could have given him a 
number of useful hints upon the preparation of appetizing 
dishes. 

On one occasion the 1 1 8th relieved a Maine regiment. The 
inventive spirit of the Yankee had found vent in the con- 
struction of a number of water-wheels out of peach-cans, etc., 
along the banks of a little stream which flowed near the line. 
Written requests had been left asking the relieving regiment 
not to disturb them, as the regiment expected to return soon. 




Pennsylvania enjoyed the handiwork of Maine, but, of course, 
complied with the request. 

Picketing in the daytime, when the eyes can be used to ad- 
vantage, is not an unpleasant thing — unless there is rain or 
snow. At night, when the silence is oppressive and the world 
seems dead, it is another thing. The faintest sound comes 
through the darkness multiplied in strength and intensity. As 
an instance : one dark night, while crouching in some bushes 
in the edge of an open field, a picket thought he heard the faint 
clanking of a sabre at some distance in front. He stole softly 
up to the next man and communicated his suspicions to him. 
They listened and both of them heard the sound distinctly. 



— 148 — 

One of them moved cautiously to a third man and told him to 
watch carefully, while the first two reconnoitered, and, if he 
heard any scuffling, to warn the pickets by firing. Side by 
side, on hands and knees, the two crept stealthily forward, 
. stopping now and then to catch the sound, and then moving 
on again towards it. About twenty-five feet beyond the line 
the sound seemed close at hand, and was soon found to be 
caused by a broken weed, which, as the wind swayed it, scraped 
against another weed. 

In pleasant weather the picket excursions partook somewhat 
of the nature of a picnic. In stormy or bitter cold weather 
they did not. A snow-storm came on one morning about five 
o'clock, and by eight, the hour for calling the relief, they were 
snowed under, the form of each man, as he lay upon the ground 
rolled in his blanket and covered with snow, looking like a 
white grave. " Turn out ! Fall in ! " yelled the sergeant. As 
they turned out the snow fell in. There were as many dif- 
ferent ways of receiving it as there were dispositions among 
the men. 

On a tour of four days the lot of division officer of the pickets 
fell to Captain Frank A. Donaldson. That adventurous spirit, 
Captain Lemuel L. Crocker, was also of the detail, and the two re- 
solved to investigate the country beyond the line. Fearing their 
absence might continue into the night, they acquainted the 
pickets of their intended purpose, and cautioned them to be 
careful not to fire in case they should return to the picket-line in 
the darkness. The road led through a generally level country, 
with the gentle rise and dip usual in the cultivated regions of that 
vicinity. The land on both sides of the road had been cleared 
and the timber yet standing was well off in the distance. Here 
and there a copse remained by the edge of the road. Vast 
fields, once evidently under high cultivation, now lay aban- 
doned. The fences were covered with vines and weeds, leafless 
from the winter's frosts. At intervals rows of cedars lined each 
side of the road. Neither man, beast nor any living thing was 
in sight. Not a dwelling-house was seen for miles. A country 



— 149 — 

apparently rich and productive was desolate and forsaken. The 
soft, subdued quiet was in striking contrast with the noise and 
bustle of the neighboring camps. An occasional elevation 
brought every direction more prominently into view. A glance 
to the rear, where for miles everything could be seen, showed 
the pickets to have been most cleverly and skilfully posted. 
They were entirely invisible, while for a great distance in their 
front the whole country was under observation of the outposts. 
The two proceeded on for at least an hour with no variation to 
the scene, amid a stillness so profound that occasionally their 
conversation involuntarily ceased. Speaking in an ordinary 
tone of voice seemed loud enough to be startling. Long be- 
fore the hour was up they thought they had discovered far, far 
out to the front a man upon horseback, but, scanning the ob- 
ject with greater care, concluded, from its immobility, that it 
was some peculiarly grown tree, that in the distance assumed 
deceptive shapes of a horse and rider. The road now, for some 
half mile, was sunk below the level of the fields, and all recol- 
lection of the horseman had passed away, until as the ground 
rose again they came suddenly upon a cavalry vedette, whom 
they had really before seen. Neither then knew that the cavalry 
were posted for vedette duty so far beyond the infantry flanks 
of the army. Horse and man, rigid and immovable, were like 
a statue. Upon the top of a rise, out in the open field, as seen 
from the hollow, they seemed outlined against the very edge 
of the horizon. His range of vision commanded the country 
for miles to the front. The setting sun burnished his equip- 
ments with its golden hues ; he held his carbine firmly grasped, 
cocked, with its butt resting upon his- right thigh, and- with 
gaze fixed, intent and penetrating, was straining every faculty 
to sweep his front before the shades of approaching darkness 
should shut him out from further observation until the dawn- 
ing of the morrow. The surprise and sort of solemn grandeur 
had hushed all talk, nor did the sound of footfalls disclose the 
presence of a stranger. There they stood for some moments 
with this picture spread before them, and, without announcing 



— 150 



themselves, turned back, with a higher conception of the duties, 
dangers and responsibilities of the then much-abused cavalry- 
men than they had ever had before. 

"It is but a step from the sublime to the ridiculous," was lit- 
erally and humorously illustrated by an incident that happened 
at one of the dress parades of the regiment. As all soldiers 
and most civilians know, the " evening dress parade " is as stiff 
and solemn an affair as a president's reception, and the least 
breach of military etiquette on the part of any one, while the 
performance is taking place, is rebuked by the severe punish- 
ment of the offender. It commenced with " parade-rest " and 
" troop beat off." Statue-like stood every man as the drum- 
corps, playing, moved down and up the line. Colonel Gwyn, 
with his fine soldierly presence, his arms folded, his body 
straight, head 'erect, and right foot thrown to the rear, stood 
steadily opposite the front and centre as 
the " troop " beat off, assuming this po- 
sition as the adjutant commanded, 
"guides, post!" That portion of the 
ceremony concluded, he deliberately 
unfolded his arms at the command 
" attention ! " and resumed the position 
of a soldier. The sublime colonel faced 
the regiment. A long step in his rear, 
stood the ridiculous Scipio Africanus. 
Every movement of the colonel was 
imitated and caricatured by the mimick- 
ing Scipio. He also puffed out his chest, 
folded his arms with an exaggeration of 
calm deliberation, and stood immovable 
as the " troop " beat down and up the 
line. Then, assuming the "attention," 
he moved his body and arms, and drew 
an imaginary sabre, in time and unison with the commandant. 
As the colonel received the parade and the adjutant took 
his post, so did Scipio receive his invisible parade. At the 




SCIP. 



— i5i — 

command " shoulder, arms ! " he opened his extensive mouth, 
showing his large, white teeth, and moving his lips, appar- 
ently repeated this and all the following commands, contin- 
uing until the dress-parade was concluded. Of course the 
colonel remained ignorant of the fact that he had a darkey- 
double a few feet in his rear. 

At first the discipline of the men overcame their inclination. 
But eventually fun proved more powerful than discipline, and, 
as one movement followed another, the contrast between the 
towering colonel in full uniform, with his soldierly carriage, and 
Scipio's dwarfed stature, with his extravagant imitations, drew 
from the men half-suppressed smiles and chuckles ; then broad 
grins and outbursts of laughter spread along the line. Colonel 
Gwyn was furious. He interrupted the manual, announced the 
names of one and another of the sergeants, and summarily 
reduced them to the ranks. One commissioned officer was 
ordered peremptorily from his post to report to his quarters in 
arrest. 

The parade dismissed, the officers were received with a stiff, 
unusual formality. Scipio continued his mimicries. This time, 
though, unaware of the stern countenance of the commander, 
he fell into error. His greeting was graceful and easy, and his 
smile pleasing and bland. With much feeling, the colonel 
called attention to the shameful behavior, inquired whether 
anything peculiar about his dress, appearance or manner had 
induced such improprieties, and continuing in an indignant 
strain, was finally interrupted and his attention for the first time 
called to Scipio. 

Scipio had evidently counted the cost, and received his pun- 
ishment meekly. He was bared to below the waist, and the 
lash, represented by a ramrod, vigorously applied. Then he was 
tied up by the thumbs and, with occasional intermissions, so 
remained until he had promised, with no expectation of fulfil- 
ment, to thereafter conduct himself with more propriety. Mrs. 
Colonel Gwyn, a lady for whom the regiment entertained the 
greatest respect and most kindly feeling, was then on a visit to 



— 152 — 

the camp, and at her intercession the colonel proclaimed an 
amnesty. 

It began to be apparent from rumors and indications, shortly- 
followed by direct orders, that this well-appointed, permanent 
encampment was not to be enjoyed without at least temporary 
interruptions. 

At noon of December 30th, with three days' rations and a 
full supply of ammunition, the brigade was assembled on the 
color line. There was no intimation of the object of the move- 
ment, and its purpose was well concealed. At the same 
time the other two brigades appeared ready to follow as 
a support, it was said, if necessary. A battery and twelve 
ambulances made up what was apparently an expeditionary 
force, intended for fight or reconnoissance as occasion should 
demand. As Colonel Barnes rode out in front of the troops, 
he reined up opposite the regiment and laughingly inquired 
" whether they liked this being picked out for sharp work." 
" It's all right," was the general responsive ; " we don't care, 
when you lead us." 

It was well into the afternoon before the column started, and 
near dark — after passing the pickets, astonished at the sight of 
such a force going beyond them — when it resumed the familiar 
direction toward Hartwood Church. But the destination was 
far beyond the old church. It was passed in the darkness, and 
a bivouac made at eleven at night in a dense wilderness, broken 
only by the timber that had been recently cut by the enemy, 
who evidently not long before had, in some force, occupied the 
country in that vicinity north of the Rappahannock. In their 
abandonment of the country, they had felled timber across the 
roadways for the purpose of obstructing and delaying the 
march of a column intended to pursue them, which must neces- 
sarily take one of the very few passable highways in any move- 
ment it might make in that general direction. They were 
reasonably successful. The infantry managed to climb over 
and move around the obstructions, but no end of delay fullowed 
in effecting their removal for the passage of the artillery and 



— 153 — 

ambulances. The night was stinging cold, with no indications 
of an enemy except the obstructed roadway, yet fires were for- 
bidden. Had they been permitted, the tempting supply of fuel 
would have caused them to be so large that their flame and 
smoke could be seen for miles, telling the enemy of a move- 
ment that was intended to be secret. 

The 31st was a cold, dull morning, and shortly after five 
o'clock, after a hastily prepared morning meal, the column was 
in motion again. Timber and other obstructions still encum- 
bered the roadway; its removal was temporarily suspended and, 
leaving the artillery and ambulances to be brought up afterwards, 
the infantry continued its march through the woods. 

About eight o'clock, a halt was ordered and strict silence 
enjoined. Except that the general direction was toward the 
Rappahannock, nothing had yet occurred to disclose the pur- 
pose of the expedition. Nor was their close proximity to the 
river as yet known to the men. Berdan's sharpshooters hur- 
riedly passed on toward the right and were soon lost to view in 
the almost impenetrable forest. "Attention!" was called in a 
subdued tone, and the men ordered to load as quietly as pos- 
sible. 

In the depths of the sombre wilderness, the dull gray light 
of the winter morning covering everything with a leaden pall, 
the death-like stillness was painful. 

The order to load had brought nerves up to a battle tension ; 
all through the woods were columns of blue, in marked con- 
trast with the dull, gloomy pines, and the men, stiffened for a 
contest with some unknown, unseen foe, stood in anxious wait- 
ing, in utter ignorance of their own position and that of their 
enemy. They had been buried in these forest wilds since early 
the night before, and none knew when or where they would end. 
But the anxiety was soon over, the inspiration soon ceased. 
Suddenly, through the forest gloom, on the still, wintry air there 
rang out the penetrating sound of musketry close at hand. The 
previous silence intensified the sound, and the roar was deaf- 
ening. It lasted some ten minutes. 



— 154 — 

Richards' Ford — the men knew nothing of its proximity, — 
on the Rappahannock, was scarce a hundred yards from where 
the head of the column rested when the halt was made. It was 
to this point the sharpshooters had hurried. Their attack dis- 
lodged a cavalry picket on the thither side, and the ford was 
open for crossing. The column immediately resumed the 
march. The regiment led the brigade, and was the first to 
enter the water. The ford was waist deep. There was much 
splashing and floundering in the hurry to reach the other side, 
the intense cold accelerating progress. Many novel methods 
were resorted to to avoid a wetting, notably one by the sergeant- 
major. He rolled several logs together and attempted to ferry 
himself across ; when in mid-stream, they turned under him 
and he was plunged headlong into the water. His discomfiture 
was received with shouts of derisive laughter. The troops were 
scarcely out of the water, before all their clothing was frozen 
stiff and became a weight to carry. On the other side, the 
country was open. The advance was continued with skir- 
mishers deployed in front, the troops following in line. Rebel 
cavalry watched the movement from a distance, but disappeared 
expeditiously as the skirmishers came within range. Just on 
the edge of the ford stood a fine old Virginia mansion, occupied 
by a farmer and his three daughters. From the windows, the 
enemy had replied to the Berdan sharpshooters. In passing 
one of the windows, in search of a place of safety, one of the 
daughters was severely wounded in the thigh. It was pro- 
nounced by the surgeons as likely to prove fatal. Since the 
war, however, it has been learned that the lady fully recovered 
without an amputation, which at the time it was believed would 
be necessary. 

The cleared land covered but a limited space, and then there 
were several miles of dense forest, and again, for a short dis- 
tance, more arable country, and so it interchanged from forest 
to farm through the whole march, the forests decidedly pre- 
dominating. Upon the farther edge of the clearings, the 
enemy's cavalry always showed itself, and flankers or skir- 
mishers gave them parting shots as they rapidly rode away. 



— 155 — 

There were but few houses along the route, their occupants 
decrepid old men or superannuated women. They were not 
molested, disturbed, or even spoken to. One sprightly dame, 
rather better favored than the rest, was suddenly surprised, re- 
turning from the spring, by the approach of the skirmishers. 
Not at all discomfited, she dropped her bucket, placed her arms 
akimbo, and in sneering silence viewed the soldiers until they 
had all passed out of sight. No one paid any attention to her, 
or even addressed her. Their reception of her was as quiet 
and undemonstrative as hers was of them. 

A couple of hours had rolled by without incident of note, 
when suddenly a single shot rang out piercingly on the extreme 
right and rear. The column was brought to a temporary halt. 
A horseman, miscalculating the distance, or havingf no faith in 
the marksmanship, had essayed to dash boldly by the flankers. 
He was, indeed, between 500 and 700 yards away, but the aim 
was excellent and, wounded in both fore-knees, his horse fell, 
pinning his rider to the ground. The man was but little hurt. 
His anxiety to get out of the road was accounted for, as he 
proved to be a mail carrier, and his bag, loaded with mail mat- 
ter, was a valuable and unexpected find. He was retained until 
his release would furnish no information. 

Indications of the recent presence of the enemy, in camps 
and bivouacs apparently hurriedly abandoned, were frequent 
towards the end of the march, but developed nothing further 
than that the enemy had been about in some strength. Seeing 
nothing except the debris of camps and a few straggling caval- 
rymen, after the brigade had moved some ten miles on that side 
of the river it was turned again towards the Rappahannock, and 
recrossed it about three o'clock in the afternoon at Ellis's Ford. 
This ford was also waist-deep, nor had the noonday sun raised 
the temperature. The men floundered, splashed about, some 
stumbled and fell, to be soaked all over, the clothing froze again, 
and the discomforts of the "morning were renewed in the after- 
noon. 

By the ford was a house occupied by an antiquated couple, 



— 156 — 

bemoaning the fate of the lady who had been accidentally shot 
in the morning, and desperately berating those who had caused 
the disaster. It was strange how the news had reached them, 
unless borne by some of the enemy's cavalry who had been 
circulating in our rear. 

Anticipating the return of the brigade at this ford, the other 
two, ordered up in support, had bivouacked near it, and in the 
vicinity the wet, hungry and fatigued troopers of the recon- 
noitring party, amid roaring fires, found some comfort after 
the labors of the day. Besides the information gleaned of the 
recent location of detachments of the enemy, and the topog- 
raphy of the country, the reconnoissance resulted in the capture 
of three cavalrymen, the mail-bag and its contents, and the 
wounding of the girl. There were no losses. 

The old year went out without note of its passing away, 
and the new one began away off in the lonely wilderness, with 
no opportunity for the usual observance of ist of January 
festivities. 

It was twenty-two miles home, and the first day of the year 
1863, up to three o'clock, was devoted to the journey. About 
eight miles out from the ford, jogging along at a comfortable 
route-step, the head of the column abruptly halted. The atten- 
tion of Colonel Barnes was suddenly called to glistening ob- 
jects in a thick copse of timber some mile in advance, which 
strongly resembled moving musket-barrels. The ground had 
been gradually rising for some distance, until the rise culmi- 
nated in a well-defined ridge. Beyond, for a mile at least, was 
a broad, open plain. Then the road descended a little, enter- 
ing a batch of thick undergrowth, which skirted the edge of a 
forest, in which, when he reached the ridge, the brigade com- 
mander first discovered the bright, moving objects that had 
arrested his attention. The men crowded the crest and the 
glistening which had called the halt was distinctly observed by 
all. It was scarcely conceivable that the enemy had crossed at 
the lower ford and deliberately thrown himself across the line 
of march of the returning reconnoitring party, and between it 



— 157 — 

and the main army. As such temerity was possible, it was 
deemed best to investigate it, and two companies, deployed as 
skirmishers, were intently watched as they moved out rapidly 
over the open plain and, disappearing first in the underbrush, 
were finally seen to enter the woods. No sound followed, 
neither shout, yell nor shot. The mystery grew apace, when 
suddenly a great flock of ducks rose from their cover and 
moved off gracefully towards the river. The deception had 
come from their flitting about among the timber, their wings 
appearing brighter as reflected against the darker tree-trunks, 
and the birds, who had thus innocently delayed a marching 
column of United States infantry, disappearing, the movement 
was continued to the destination without further hindrance or 
incident. 

On the return march flocks of crows continually hovered a 
mile or two to the rear. They would rise in great numbers, 
float about for a while, move on some distance and then settle 
again. This they continued to do for many miles. It was the 
impression that a light force of the enemy's cavalry were main- 
taining a pursuit for observation, and, as they would move 
along from place to place, the birds, disturbed in their feeding, 
would rise, hover, and settle again when the interruption 
ceased. 

A most cheering greeting was at hand on the arrival in camp. 
Boxes from home, toothsome remembrances of friends and 
relatives, had arrived, a ton or more of them. If the ist of 
January festivities had been interrupted, there were New Year's 
gifts at hand to make the second joyous and gladsome in fitting 
substitution. Parents, wives, friends, relatives, maidens fair, 
and the liberal Corn Exchange Committee, all had subscribed 
in everything transportable and preservative for choice eating 
and drinking, and for a week or more all revelled in the luxuries 
of their contributions. 

The sight and enjoyment of the material comforts led to 
loving, tender thoughts and visions of home and its inmates, 
and over many a stern, sun-browned and storm-tanned face 



stole a soft, gentle expression that was not wont to be 
there. 

In packing the boxes the affectionate senders had not for- 
gotten the particular, and in some cases peculiar, tastes of the 
recipients. One of the men opened his box and, to the joy of 
his heart and the fulfilment of his expectations, and afterwards 
to the disturbance of his nerves and the nerves of others, found 
it full of whiskey. A dozen quart bottles, carefully packed. 
Ecstatic bliss glowed upon his face and shone in his eyes, as, 
with a bottle in one hand and a glass held to his lips in the 
other, his nostrils received the pungent odor and his throat the 
fiery warmth of his old acquaintance. He drank the health of 
the Corn Exchange, of his friends at home, of the colonel, the 
major, and the captain of his company ; also that of the sergeant 
of the guard, when he came to warn him not to be bois- 
terous and insisted that the " non-com " should drink his own. 
Then he commenced with the members of his company, al- 
though they numbered sixty-five, and would have toasted them 
separately but that he fell asleep while yet occupied at that 
labor of politeness. In the morning, finding all the bottles 
empty, he sadly reflected that all earthly pleasures are fleeting. 

The Richard's Ford reconnoissance was but a prelude to the 
Burnside winter campaign of January, 1863, now historically 
recognized as the famous " Mud March." The cold, unusual 
for the latitude, continued for several weeks. The ground was 
firm and solid, the frost deep and the roads better than ever 
before in the army's experience in a Virginia winter. If the 
freezing weather had held on a little longer there would doubt- 
less have been another issue to the unfortunate affair; there 
would at least have been a fight. 

Repeatedly orders were issued for the movement and as 
often countermanded, until, on Tuesday, the 20th of January, 
it was finally begun. It was a crisp, bright winter day. A 
flaming general order, indicating prospective success, intimating 
a surprise, appealing to the strength and valor of the soldiery, 
and assuring a hopefulness in a speedy termination of the war, 



159 — 







— 160 — 

was published to every regiment just before its march began. 
The Army of the Potomac had become a stolid set; stirring 
appeals had lost their effectiveness ; what was to be done they 
considered had better be done and talked of afterwards. De- 
monstrative language, defiant music, were thought to be akin. 
When the bands of the two armies would taunt each other with 
rival patriotic airs, it was invariably followed by defeat or with- 
drawal; and written promises and urgent appeals it was thought 
would have kindred results. Yet there was willingness and 
readiness, and the men moved off with a cheerful alacrity, a 
gait and carriage that implied that what they were put at they 
would accomplish if others could. 

It was one o'clock before the movement, which started in the 
other corps at early dawn, reached the brigade. After but a 
five-mile march a halt for the night was made in an extensive 
oak forest. A fatality attended the enterprise from its incip- 
iency. The cold weather was over; the 20th ended it. The 
temperature rose perceptibly through the day, and during the 
night a pouring, pelting rain set in, an undoubted indication of 
the commencement of the usual January thaw. The wind blew 
a gale ; rest was out of the question ; the effort was to keep 
reasonably dry. Huge fires were built, and most of the wet 
and gloomy night passed in " marking time " in front of 
them. 

At daylight on the 2ist the incessant pour still continued. 
The leading corps had reached Bank's Ford, one of the desig- 
nated points for crossing the Rappahannock, and there they 
remained massed. The 5th was virtually held fast. All the 
hard, solid ground had disappeared, and in its place, on the 
roads and in the fields, there was mud of a depth and consis- 
tency that held tight whatever penetrated it, so that release 
without assistance was almost impossible. It seemed scarcely 
conceivable that less than twenty-four hours should produce 
such a surprising change. The feet of men and animals, the 
wheels of gun, caisson, limber and wagon had so stirred and agi- 
tated the pasty substance, that, as the nature of the soil varied, 



161 — 



in one place it was a deep, sticky loam, and in another a thick 
fluid-extract. Twelve horses could not move a gun. The 
wheels of vehicles disappeared entirely. Pontoons on their 
carriages stood fixed and helpless in the roadway, the wheels 
out of sight, the boats in mud and water sufficient to float them 
if they had been free. Human skill, strength and ingenuity 
were exhausted in the attempt to get forward the indispensable 
artillery, ammunition and bridges. Men were put to aid the 
animals, and the woods were resonant with " Heave ! ho, 
heave ! " as if sailors were work- 
ing away at the capstan. When 
night came on the regiment, which 
had started in the early morning, 
had heaved itself along a distance 
of about three miles, when it biv- 
ouacked in the heavy timber and in 
the still drenching deluge ; again 
" marked time " until the morning. 
There was no improvement on 
the 22d; further progress was im- 
practicable, and the command re- 
mained fastened to its uncomfortable 
bivouac. It was quite evident the 
intended operations had been aban- 
doned. The 5th Corps was to have 
crossed at Ellis' Ford, familiar from 
the recent reconnoissance. On the * v 

other side the enemy had erected large boards, on which were 
displayed in letters plainl) discernible taunting phrases. On 
one : " Burnside stuck in the mud; "on another :" Yanks, if 
you can't place your pontoons over yourself, we will send you 
a detail." They had impressed all the ploughs in the neighbor- 
hood, and could be seen turning the sod in every direction, 
intending to assist the elements in their purpose to stop the 
progress of the army. They needed no such aid ; their pur- 
pose had been fully accomplished unassisted. 




— l62 — 

About noon, abandoned to inaction, the commandants of the 
1 1 8th and 25 th New York, who were in most friendly relations, 
fell to bantering each other as to which of their pioneers could 
the sooner fell a tree in a given direction. The challenge ac- 
cepted, Daniel Oakley, of Company B of the 11 8th and a 
broad-shouldered fellow of the 25th were chosen for the com- 
petition. Oakley's tree was down in the designated direction 
in less than ten minutes. The New Yorker was far behind, 
and when his did fall, it dropped entirely away from the direc- 
tion indicated. The friends of the defeated man bore his dis- 
comfiture most ungraciously. As Oakley wiped the perspira- 
tion from his brow one of them deliberately seized the axe with 
which he had done his work, charging he had stolen it. A 
struggle at once ensued. This belligerency, encouraged by a 
plentiful ration of whiskey issued during the morning, soon 
became contagious, and a free to all hand-to-hand conflict re- 
sulted. Inadvertently two officers were dragged into the melee, 
Captain Crocker and Lieutenant Wetherill. Crocker fought his 
way through the 25th, threw his brawny fists about him, be- 
labored and punished his assailants severely ; then he fought 
his way back again, returning badly abused in his clothing but 
otherwise unscathed. Wetherill, on a visit to a friend in the 
22d Massachusetts, volunteered his services to subdue an 
insubordination over there, but was fiercely set upon, badly 
abused and compelled to hastily withdraw. In his hurried 
flight he unwittingly fell among the rioters of the 25th just as 
Crocker was in the midst of his extravagant gyrations. Here 
again he met resistance, but neither so apt nor strong as the 
massive Crocker, his adversaries found him the easier victim 
and administered a harsh punishment. The 25th, severely 
worsted, flew to arms. The excitement was intense; the 
situation threatening. By this time the entire brigade had 
their pieces. A battery was now brought up and the guns 
trained on the combatants. Still the belligerents would not be 
quieted. Two regiments were sent to its support and the guns 
ordered to be shotted with canister, but it was not until the 






— 163 — 

lanyards were in the hands of the gunners that the rioters 
ceased their contentions and stampeded precipitately to their 
camps. The disgraceful scene ended in mutual apologies by 
the respective commandants, and the regiments were separated 




GETTING READY FOR INSPECTION. 



by a considerable distance, that their anger might cool and the 
whiskey subside. 

A little reflection rearoused the ire of the two commandants. 
The apologies were withdrawn, hot words followed, the lie was 



— 164 — 

given direct, and it was believed honor demanded a hostile 
meeting. A challenge, presented with all the formalities of the 
code, passed from Colonel Gwyn to Colonel Johnson. It was 
promptly accepted, seconds chosen, weapons selected, time and 
place of meeting fixed. Friends interfered, the scene ended, 
apologies were renewed and all the wrongs and insults of the 
hour buried in the exhilarating bowl. 

On the 23d it was officially announced that the campaign 
was abandoned and the troops were ordered to return to their 
former camping-grounds. Such directions were easy to pub- 
lish, but their execution not so easy. The army was fairly 
fast where it was — literally stuck in the mud. It was some 
twelve miles back to the nearest camps. Pontoons, artillery 
trains could not be moved. Subsistence was exhausted and the 
Army of the Potomac felt the pinch of hunger. To relieve this 
pressure and get out of this sorry plight, the whole army was 
set to road-making, and by night a very creditable corduroy 
road was completed all the way to the rear. Over it during 
the night all wheels were successfully moved. The troops 
followed on the 24th, the rain for the first time subsiding. 
Before evening the brigade was back to its old quarters, not to 
be disturbed until bud, blossom and flower had indicated that 
the elements had ceased to war with man, and that, freed from 
their interference, man might aeain war aeainst himself. 








CHAPTER VII. 



CHANCELLORSVILLE. 



[OLONEL PREVOST, still dis- 
abled and suffering from his Shep- 
herdstown wound, returned on the 
19th of April, and at once assumed 
command. 

Intimations were rife, and or- 
ders frequent through all the 
month of April, indicating the 
opening of the spring campaign. But the lingering winter was 
still abroad, and on the 5th an all-day snow-storm covered the 
ground to the depth of several inches. Later, there were days 
of continuous rain, and with the recent experience of the dis- 
astrous consequences of attempting a movement at such a time, 
the month was nearly spent before it was certain that the 
weather had adjusted itself to the season. 

The army was in splendid health and buoyant spirits, secure 
in the knowledge of its strength, confident in the ability of its 
leaders. General Hooker, soon after he relieved General Burn- 
side, popularized his administration by giving special attention 
to the commissariat. He directed a diet which in quantity, 
quality and variety was captivating, appetizing and nutritious. 
He also wisely permitted a judicious allowance of leaves of 
absence to officers, and furloughs to enlisted men. There 
were few officers who had not been home once, at least, during 
the winter, and no enlisted man who chose to attain an excel- 
lent soldierly record in all things — the standard of merit upon 
which their furloughs were granted — who had not enjoyed a 

(165) 



— 1 66 — 

like privilege. Coming to the command of the army with a 
brilliant record for his splendid fighting qualities, General 
Hooker had the prestige of tenacious courage and superior 
judgment, securing him the unbounded confidence of his 
soldiers. His unremitting care for their needs, his liberality in 
permitting their occasional absences had attached them to him 
warmly. Jealousies, cabals, dissensions were over. Intriguers 
and plotters had been relieved, troops were in sympathy with 
their commander, chieftains in unison with each other. There 
was an assurance of success in the temper of things, and the 
campaign opened cheerily.* 

* The feeling of the men is best illustrated in the following song, which was 
popular in the 5th Corps on the march : 

The Union boys are moving on the left and the right, 
The bugle call is sounding, our shelters we must strike, 
Joe Hooker is our leader, he takes his whisky strong, 
So our knapsacks we will sling, and go marching along. 
Chorus : — Joe Hooker is our leader, he takes his whisky strong, 

So our knapsacks we will sling, and go marching along. 

Marching along, marching along, 

With eight days' rations we'll go marching along. 

The soft-tack days are over, our beef is on the foot, 
The pork, hard-tack, and coffee we've in our knapsacks put; 
The extra clothes are heavy, but on our shoulders strong, 
We'll sling our eight days' rations, and go marching along. 
CHORUS: — The extra clothes are heavy, but on our shoulders strong, 
We'll sling our eight days' rations, and go marching along. 

Our overcoats and dresscoats are strewn along the road. 
They crowded them upon us — we couldn't tote the load, 
Contractors put the job up, and we must foot the bill ; 
But, Sam, our dear old uncle, we know it's not your will. 
CHORUS: — Contractors put the job up, and we must foot the bill; 

But, Sam, our dear old uncle, we know it's not your will. 

The graybacks are on us, increasing each day, 
Heavy are our rations, but small is our pay ; 
Our spirits are light, but our cause it is strong, 
With eight days' rations we go marching along. 
CHORUS: — Our spirits are light, but our cause it is strong, 
With eight days' rations we go marching along. 



— 167 — 

The frequent premonitory orders had prompted the de- 
struction, or other disposal, of the vast accumulations unsuit- 
able for carriage in active operations, which gather while in 
permanent quarters. Eight days' rations had been for some 
time continuously on hand, and when the " general " sounded 
on the early morning of the 27th of April, the response was as 
ready as if the troops were starting from a night's bivouac. 

The heat was unusual for the season, the load of eight days' 
subsistence and sixty rounds of ammunition heavier than usual, 
and the men soft from a long winter's housing. 

Nor were these all. The men had got through the winter 
as best they might for clothing. Now, upon the eve of a 
march, with an extra load to carry in the matter of food, an 
order was issued that every enlisted man must have a full 
supply of clothing ; that is, an overcoat, dress-coat, blouse, a 
change of underclothing, two pairs of socks, blanket, and 
shelter-tent. The men could not check their baggage. There 
was no alternative; they must take the articles, pay for them, 
and throw them away. It may be asked, Why did not the 

The Virginia hills are high, and the mud roads are long, 
But we'll liven the way with a bit of home-made song; 
Then join the chorus, comrades, with voices full and strong, 
While with our eight days' rations we go marching along. 
Chorus: — Then join the chorus, comrades, with voices full and strong, 
While with our eight days' rations we go marching along. 

The Johnnies are before us, their bullets buzz like bees, 
They're down among the brushwood, and hid behind the trees ; 
Now, keep cool, boys — there ! steady ! just give it to them strong I 
And when the fight is over we'll go marching along. 
Chorus : — Now, keep cool, boys — there ! steady ! just give it to them strong ! 
And when the fight is over we'll go marching along. 

The war won't last forever, some day we will be done 
With drill, and march, and battle, and cartridge-box and gun, 
We'll tramp up North from Richmond to drum and fife ; and then, 
Oh, won't our folks be tickled to see us home again ! 
Chorus: — We'll tramp up North from Richmond to drum and fife; and then. 
Oh, wont our folks be tickled to see us home again ! 



— 1 68 — 

men carry their clothes ? If any man of ordinary health and 
strength wishes to answer the question satisfactorily to himself, 
let him load up with seventy pounds in addition to his own 
avoirdupois some fine day when the flowers bloom in the spring, 
and march from six in the morning until mid-day. Long before 
noon he will find that the grasshopper is a burden, and will 
know the reason why the men threw their clothing away. 

The roads were lined with abandoned clothing from the corps 
in advance, and the first day out found the soldiers stripped to 
the absolute essentials only, blanket, gum-blanket and single 
piece of shelter-tent. It was noted with satisfaction that the 
route indicated no direct attack on the formidable Fredericks- 
burg, but clearly pointed to a movement around the enemy's 
left. The road was the very familiar one towards Hartwood 
Church, and by seven o'clock the acquaintance with the little 
chapel and its attractive surroundings of forest and field, leafing 
and sprouting in the early spring-time, was again renewed. 
The soft air, the easy march, the moon glimmering through the 
massive oaks, made musings and meditation as restful as real 
repose. 

It was half-past one on the 28th before the column started, 
and then the march continued uninterruptedly and without in- 
cident for some eighteen miles, when, at 9.30 in the evening, the 
night's bivouac was made in the vicinity of Kelly's Ford, on 
the Rappahannock. 

On the 29th the early dawn was announced as the time to 
begin the preparations for a march, but it was seven o'clock 
before the column was in motion. The progress was slow, 
impeded by the jams and halts necessarily following the pas- 
sage of streams, whether by bridge or ford. The men were 
cheery, full of fun, and anxious to get forward. They became 
enthusiastic when from the bluff overlooking the river the long 
line of blue, well closed up, solid, compact, moving with swing- 
ing, earnest gait, could be seen stretched out, serpent-like, for 
miles, its right lost entirely in the distance. 

At noon the crossing was effected, at Kelly's Ford, on canvas 



- 169 — 

pontoons, and then the march continued, steady and uninter- 
rupted, to Ely's Ford on the Rapidan. The stream was waist-deep 
and rapid, and in crossing it the extra ammunition, haversacks, 
knapsacks, and cartridge-boxes were carried on the head, and 
held in place by the rifle, pressed upon them and grasped in 
both hands. At 7.30 the men bivouacked near the river. 
Wood being plentiful, huge fires soon lit up the country. Frol- 
icsome and joyous, yet edging up to the impending battle, the 
command dropped off into welcome slumber. 

When the army left camp a member of the regiment who had 
been lame with rheumatism for months determined to go with 
the men rather than be sent to the hospital. He managed to 
keep up, or catch up, somehow, and after crossing the Rapidan, 
suffering acutely, thoroughly used up and thoroughly soaked, 
he wrapped himself in his blanket, lay down by one of the fires, 
and forgot where he was. When he rose in the morning he 
was astonished to find not a vestige of his rheumatism left. 
Nor did it trouble him again until after his return to camp. 

The Rapidan was at no time a sluggish stream. Its width 
varied, but at Ely's Ford it about equalled the Schuylkill at the 
Falls. A tributary of the Rappahannock, its waters joined that 
river about two miles above United States Ford, the uppermost 
of those on the Rappahannock, the crossing of which would 
permit an advance into the enemy's territory, without necessi- 
tating the crossing of the Rapidan. 

It was the first time the Army of the Potomac had pushed 
so far. Meeting no opposition, and passing successfully two 
such water-barriers as the Rappahannock and the Rapidan 
without resistance, the soldiers had fairly reached the conclu- 
sion, as it was shortly afterwards announced in general orders, 
" we now have the enemy in such a position that he would 
either be compelled to leave his entrenchments and fight us or 
ingloriously flee." Their belief went even further ; they be- 
lieved he had ingloriously fled, and must be pursued to be 
fought. Hence the huge fires, the unusual enthusiasm, the 
universal exhilaration. There was a firm conviction that by 



— 170 — 

superior tactics, and wise strategy, the enemy had been dis- 
lodged from a position believed from experience and obser- 
vation to be invulnerable. How sadly this conviction was dis- 
sipated history has told. How speedily the belief that the 
enemy had fled disappeared, and the joy and enthusiasm van- 
ished, will soon be apparent. 

The early beams of the morning sun, on the 30th, were just 
tinging the lofty tree-tops when everything was astir about the 
bivouacs. The morning's promise of a bright, clear day was 
fulfilled, and a bracing temperature set every one aglow with in- 
vigoration and expectancy. It had been announced the night 
before that the brigade would have the advance, and it was 
expected the regiment would lead. The column lengthened 
into the road about eight o'clock, the brigade leading, with the 
regiment on the right, as was anticipated. The march began 
with brisk, active gait, but its alacrity was soon checked as the 
road entered a dense wilderness. The skirmishers were much 
delayed in forcing their way through the thick underbrush, and 
their halts affected the movement of the whole column. The 
men kept well closed up, ready for instant deployment. It was 
the advance of the whole army, and General Griffin, the division 
commander, gave it his personal supervision and direction. In 
the rear, some half a mile, were the other two brigades of the 
division, with two batteries of artillery. Such was the unusual 
enthusiasm, that the hope was general that the enemy might be 
struck before other troops should come up. There was a preva- 
lent belief that the division could dispose of any reasonable 
force, and gather laurels for itself alone. 

Nearing the Chancellorsville House, a most pretentious man- 
sion, now so famous, the skirmishers were brought to a tem- 
porary halt in front of a line of earthworks seen from the edge 
of the timber. Their appearance indicated a hasty construction. 
The brigade was promptly deployed ; the skirmishers and the 
line again moved forward. General Griffin, observing the de- 
ployment, hurried forward the other two brigades, and as their 
pace increased to the double-quick, the echo of their steady 
tramp resounded through the timber. 



— 171 — . 

As the skirmishers left the woods and entered the clearing, 
they speedily mounted the earthworks, as the enemy were 
leaving them. A few laggards were captured, and these, with 
a number of the pickets who had been taken during the march, 
indicated by their conversation and appearance such astonish- 
ment at the unexpected presence of an enemy, as to assure the 
soldiery in their belief that they had really effected a complete 
surprise. 

It was about eleven o'clock when a halt was made in front 
of the Chancellorsville House. It was a -house of the Southern 
type, belonging to a well-known family of the neighborhood, 
still occupied by the women, and stood there alone, in a clearing. 
It was a large, commodious, two-story brick building, with 
peaked roof and a wing, and pillared porches on both stories in 
the centre of the main building, facing the Fredericksburg and 
Orange plank road, about twelve miles from Fredericksburg 
and about six from Banks's Ford. Its large size and number of 
rooms seemed to indicate that it was designed for a summer 
boarding-house. As a fact, it was intended to be the central 
structure of a village not yet built, which, it was proposed, 
should be located around it. Hence its name of the " Chancel- 
lorsville House," as distinguished from the Chancellor House, 
sometimes known as Dowdall's Tavern, a roadside inn a few 
miles beyond, kept by one of the Chancellor family, and de- 
riving its name from its proprietor. 

Upon the upper porch was quite a bevy of ladies in light, 
dressy, attractive spring costumes. They were not at all 
abashed or intimidated, scolded audibly and reviled bitterly. 
They seriously condemned the stoppage, urged a more expe- 
ditious movement, and stated they had assurances from General 
Lee, who was just ahead, that he was there anxiously awaiting 
an opportunity to extend the " hospitalities of the country." 
They had little conception of the terrors in store for them, or 
that they were to participate in this bountiful hospitality. They 
saw all the horrors of the battle, felt the hot blasts of shot and 
shell, and, before another day was over, pitifully pleaded to be 



— 172 — 

carried to a place of safety. The gallantry of the distinguished 
chief of staff of the army would not permit him to be resentful, 
and having seen them safely quartered in the cellar, subse- 
quently rescued them through its windows when the flames, 
smoke and falling timbers of the burning building had brought 
them to the very presence of death. 

General officers with their staffs, as their troops approached 
the vicinity, gathered about and occupied the porches. It was 
a lively and inspiriting scene in the midst of such surround- 
ings, the presence of the ladies adding a spicy sprinkling of 
society and domestic life. 

The march was shortly resumed towards Fredericksburg, 
out the old turnpike road, and continued in column without 
incident for about two miles, when it was again interrupted at 
the foot of a piece of high ground, towards the top of which 
and from the direction of the enemy, a single gun was seen to 
move at a rapid rate. The drivers furiously lashed their horses, 
clouds of dust almost obscured them, and the gun reaching the 
eminence was swiftly wheeled into battery and unlimbered. 
Strangely, it did not fire a shot. As quickly the brigade began 
a rapid deployment, and by the time the gun was in position it 
had nearly completed its line, well concealed by the timber and 
ready for an immediate advance. Meanwhile our skirmishers 
had struck the enemy's. There they stood facing each other, 
close enough for conversation in ordinary tones, grim with de- 
termination, neither firing, and no one speaking. The word 
had been passed for those of the Union side to halt. It seems 
inexplicable how men of war, meeting at the opening of an 
engagement, could hesitate to fire. After days of useless 
slaughter, the unauthorized truce was by no means unusual. 
But there they stood, steady and silent, gazing, the one in ap- 
parent wonderment, and the other in real surprise at the unex- 
pected situation. One of the enemy presented a striking atti- 
tude. He stood rigid, apparently in the position he had as- 
sumed when he first observed his foes. His countenance indi- 
cated that he considered himself in an awful predicament. His 




— 173 — 

right foot was thrown forward, his right hand grasped a tree as 
if for support, while with his left he held his piece nearly at a 
trail, grasped firmly at the middle band. And so he remained 
until he, with the rest of the line, continuing to face to the front 
and stepping backwards, gradually drew off, disappearing finally 
in the thicket without firing a single shot. Nor did the Union 
line, halted by direction, attempt to disturb the withdrawal. 
They remained silent; not a piece was discharged. But there 
stood the important eminence, apparently utterly abandoned, 
only awaiting occupation. The dullest could see the necessity 
for its seizure, and could not understand the failure to accept 
the invitation to occupy it. 

General Griffin soon made his appearance, and he and Gen- 
eral Barnes were seen in hurried, earnest consultation. There 
the brigade rested for a long time awaiting instructions from 
the corps commander, General Meade, to whom the situation 
and opportunity had been speedily communicated. Conceiving, 
as far as their limited opportunities would permit, that this ridge 
was apparently the key of the position, if a battle was to be 
fought in the vicinity, the soldiers waited in earnest, anxious 
readiness the direction to occupy it. It was cleared land, and 
out of the wilderness. Beside the incalculable advantage 
of controlling such a point, it was believed its crest com- 
manded a view of much of the country beyond. But it was 
decreed otherwise, and the spot that was the scene of the 
bloodiest, severest fight in the next day's struggle was per- 
mitted to remain in the then loose, unstable grip of the enemy 
from whom, at that moment, it could have been readily wrested. 
General Meade's orders were positive and imperative not to 
bring on an engagement. 

After several hours of impatient waiting, in buoyant ex- 
pectancy of a promised success, the whole division was with- 
drawn to the rifle-pits near the Chancellorsville House, over 
which they had charged the enemy in the morning. There 
they remained in bivouac for the night. The soldiers were as 
discomfited as if they had been checked by a serious repulse. 



— 174 — 

All enthusiasm vanished, all the bright hopes of success disap- 
peared. The belief that had grown to conviction that the cam- 
paign would culminate in the utter rout of the enemy was 
changed to sullen disappointment. The spirits of at least the 
advance of the Army of the Potomac were sadly broken. They 
had witnessed a lost opportunity, and slept that night near the 
morrow's battle-field convinced that, before the discharge of a 
single gun, before the firing of a single shot, somebody had 
again blundered. 

Both Generals Griffin and Barnes were much chagrined at 
the peremptory order to stop. They made earnest appeals for 
the revocation of the directions, entered potent objections against 
their enforcement. From those who were in position to over- 
hear the loud and angered tones of the conversation, it was 
reported that some hot, plain, determined words were spoken. 
General Griffin, filled with soldierly enthusiasm and justly con- 
fident of his ability to take and hold the eminence, offered to 
surrender his commission if his attempt should prove a failure. 

Just as the line was formed at the foot of the rise, much mer- 
riment followed the performances of the division surgeon. Dr. 
Owens, oblivious, meditating possibly how " pill opii " or " pill 
hydrarg " could be made panaceas for all ills, failed to observe 
the deployment, and continued his course leisurely along the 
road. Nor did he fully realize his position until a rifle-ball from 
the enemy brought his horse to its haunches. The disabling 
shot rudely disturbed his meditations and, speedily discovering 
his lonesomeness, he sought cover with commendable celerity. 
He soon found his associates, and concluded he would there- 
after conduct his musings at a more convenient season. This 
shot, intended solely for the doctor or his horse, was the only 
one fired during all these singular proceedings. 

All the surrounding country was filled with troops. During 
the afternoon they concentrated in great numbers, indicating a 
purpose to mass heavily in this vicinity. At the invitation of 
Colonel Prevost, Captains Donaldson and Crocker accompanied 
him to army head-quarters, about being established near by. 



— 175 — 

They were courteously received by Colonel Dickinson, the 
chief of staff, who excused his chief, busily engaged elsewhere. 
He presented the party to a general officer who, in broad- 
brimmed hat and corduroy hunting coat, without insignia of 
rank, was sauntering leisurely about on foot. He received 
them with his usual affability, and graciously extending his 
hand in acknowledging the introduction, expressed his regret 
at his inability to extend the hospitalities also ; and turning to 
Colonel Dickinson, whom he familiarly addressed as "Joe," in- 
quired what he could do for the party. The Colonel explained 
that the head-quarter wagons had not yet arrived, and he was 
without the exhilarating beverages usual on such occasions, but 
producing a bottle of Drake's plantation bitters as a fitting sub- 
stitute in the emergency, with the customary " here's how," it 
was passed "by word of mouth," until all had partaken at the 
Colonel's expense. It was too busy a time for a lengthy stay, 
and the visitors shortly withdrew. 

Before night General Hooker's famous order, so eloquent in 
its rhetoric, was published. It was doubtless, when indited, 
justified by the first grasp of the situation, but was sadly unfitted 
to the circumstances when it reached the soldiers. 

Head-quarters Army of the Potomac. 

Camp near Falmouth, Virginia, 
April 30, 1863. 
General Orders, No. 47. 

It is with heartfelt satisfaction the commanding general announces to the army 
that the operations of the past three days have determined that our enemy must 
either ingloriously fly, or come out from behind his defences and give us battle on 
our own ground, where certain destruction awaits him. 

The operations of the 5th, nth and 12th corps have been a succession of splen- 
did achievements. 

By command of Major-General Hooker. 
S. Williams, Assistant Adjutant- General. 

Through the night the gloom was pierced by the doleful 
screech of the owl, the plaintive cry of the whippoorwill, and 
the buzz and clatter of a multitude of insects. Different species 
of the latter, not content with making night hideous, sought to 



— 176 — 

investigate the strange change that had come over their usually 
quiet haunts. Big black ants wandered up and down among 
the hard-tack in the haversacks, stopping occasionally to re- 
fresh themselves with a lunch. Thousandleggers crawled over 
the necks, faces and hands of the sleeping soldiers. Stag- 
beetles, or horn-bugs, nipped wherever they alighted, and were 
crushed out of existence for their temerity. They were fitting 
substitutes for a nameless entomological pest oftentimes a fami- 
liar companion. This pest disappeared with the winter 
frosts, but, apparently indigenous to the vicinity, was ready 
with renewed life and untiring activity when the accumulations 
of dust and dirt should restore it to its sportive playfulness 
and itching ways. In its season of active operations it revived 
sorrowful memories of the backsliding Egyptians whom 
Moses punished, when he directed Aaron to lift his rod, smite 
the dust and let a plague fall upon the land of the sphinx and 
the pyramid. 

At early dawn on the 1st of May the melodious notes of in- 
numerable birds filled the air, and, notwithstanding the invasion 
of their forest home, they kept up their cheerful songs far into 
the day. But the frightened deer found safety from the ad- 
vancing hosts in the depths of the wilderness; the foxes sought 
their holes and the rabbits their warrens. Now and then an 
inquisitive squirrel looked down from his hiding-place far up 
in a tree upon the Avarlike men beneath. 

There was no movement of the division nor incident of note 
until about ten o'clock, when suddenly, without warning of 
artillery or picket-firing, prolonged and heavy musketry was 
heard to the front, rapidly increasing to a continuous roar. 
The artillery soon added their deafening thunders and the 
sound, intensified in the timber of the wilderness, was appall- 
ing. The blue smoke rose through the thicket and hung like 
a curtain over the combatants. Both sides were evidently 
taking punishment where they stood, no yell or cheer indicat- 
ing either an advance or retreat. The scene of the conflict 
was the eminence which General Griffin had been refused per- 



— *77 — 

mission to occupy, and the troops so manfully struggling to 
secure it were General Sykes's division of regulars. 

The fight raged fiercely, and while its furies were still un- 
abated, at eleven o'clock, Griffin's division, for some undisclosed 
purpose, was moved off in the direction of Banks's Ford. The 
route lay entirely through the desolate, uninhabited timber, 
and continued for some five miles, to within sight of the ford. 
Here there was nothing that seemed to require attention ; no 
enemy was or appeared to have been in the vicinity, and, after 
a lengthy halt, the column retraced its steps and brought up 
again about five o'clock in the vicinity of the Chancellorsville 
House. 

While at the ford a captive balloon floated about in the air, 
its mission and purpose doubtless futile, as all observation of 
roads, trains or troops was evidently impossible in the dense 
forests in which everything was hidden. 

A line of battle was formed in the clearing and pushed for- 
ward into the timber. The movement was believed to be to 
the front, but distance and direction were so lost in the inter- 
minable thicket that both were, to those of the line at least, 
mere conjecture. Some distance was accomplished, when the 
line was halted at a spot where the underbrush was of less 
density. Troops had occupied the ground before, and indica- 
tions were significant of a hurried preparation for the charge. 
Knapsacks, half opened, the contents most easily transported re- 
moved, and torn papers from the cartridges distinctly marked 
the place from which the charge commenced. The troops had 
disappeared ; there was no evidence whether in advance or re- 
treat, nor of who they were, except that a Bible from one of the 
knapsacks showed it once belonged to D. C. Thompson,- of 
Worth, Mercer county, Pennnsylvania, Company H, 134th 
Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers. This knapsack also con- 
tained some very neat, clean, well-made underwear, and though 
the Bible was abandoned, from the scraps scattered about it 
was evident that Thompson had not forgotten his tobacco. 

Darkness was fast approaching, and after a still further for- 



- i 7 8 - 

ward movement in the same general direction, the line again 
halted and pickets were established well in advance. There 
was an anxious, uncertain look upon the countenances of the 
men. Thrown out apparently in the air, night approaching, 
with a certainty that they were without support, with no knowl- 
edge as to whether they were to make an attack or receive one, 
with vivid remembrance of the mismanagement of yesterday 
and the struggle it had caused to-day, the sturdiest spirits be- 
came sullen and gloomy. Just as the twilight was passing 
into total darkness, General Barnes rode up to the regiment. 
He informed Colonel Prevost of the result of General Sykes's 
fight in the morning. He had been roughly handled, but had 
secured an advantageous ridge which commanded the open 
country beyond, and which had been immediately occupied in 
strength by other troops that had not been engaged. In the 
face of urgent appeals and stern protests against sacrificing 
such opportunities, presented by several of his most eminent 
generals, General Hooker, to the astonishment of his men and 
the wonder of the enemy, had ordered the abandonment of this 
entire line. He subsequently altered his determination, but it 
was too late ; before the revocation reached its destination the 
order had been executed, and the enemy had occupied the 
heights in such force as to destroy any hopes of their present 
dislodgement. General Barnes also advised the colonel that 
his brigade was alone and then far out in advance of the army ; 
that the orders for the advance to this position had not been 
countermanded, and that at any moment he was liable to be 
attacked by overwhelming numbers ; that if orders were not 
soon received he would retire on his own responsibility. 
When such orders were received the withdrawal must be made 
directly to the rear, in silence and with extreme caution. The 
pickets must be abandoned, unless an officer would volunteer 
to communicate to them the instructions to withdraw. Captain 
Donaldson hearing this remark promptly tendered his services. 
As he was receiving the specific directions from General Barnes 
how to proceed to execute his mission, a single cannon shot 






— 179 — 

passed over, followed immediately by a tremendous and furious 
shelling. The red streaks of fire from the fuses, the vivid flash 
of the bursting shell, the hissing shriek of the flying missile 
were startling in the gloomy darkness of the lonely timber. All 
movements were at once suspended. There were no guns with 
the advance and the punishment which continued several hours 
was endured without reply. Without awaiting directions the 
men set about to fell and slash the timber on their front, antici- 
pating such active practice would be followed by an advance in 
force. 

Scipio Africanus again appeared. Wherever he was the 
ludicrous was dominant. This time, though, he had not de- 
signed to furnish his usual contribution. It was never his pur- 
pose to seek a perilous place, but the fear of being forgotten 
entirely had prompted him to stroll along, until he inadver- 
tently fell upon the terrors then surrounding him. He was lost 
completely and knowing neither his right, left, front, or rear, 
plaintively appealed to the officer nearest at hand to be directed 
to a place of safety, pitifully indicating his desire to be shown 
the rear. Guided by the light of the flash from a bursting shell 
the officer designated the general direction of the haven he 
sought, and with all the speed his tremulous body could com- 
mand Scipio dashed away towards it. He had disappeared but a 
moment when a shell, passing over him, burst in the path he 
was pursuing right in his front. In his wild excitement he had 
no other conception than that what appeared before him must 
have been discharged from something in front of him, and 
turning suddenly back, with arms beating the air, eyes dis- 
tended and hair on end, a picture of fright beyond recovery, 
yelled in a wail of utter despair, — "Captain, dar is no rear! 
captain, dar is no rear !" His familiar voice was heard above 
the noise of battle, and shouts of laughter greeted his an- 
nouncement. But he found his way out eventually and turned 
up in a few days with his exuberant spirits still unimpaired. 

Shortly after ten o'clock the cannonading gradually subsided 
and Captain Donaldson started on his mission to withdraw the 



— 180 — 

pickets. He was soon lost to any idea of direction except as 
he was guided by the sounds coming from the enemy's lines. 
He plainly heard the creaking of the wheels of the gun-carri- 
ages as the batteries which had been in action were apparently 
being withdrawn ; then the driving of stakes and cutting 
wood in preparation of a rest for the night. The voices of the 
enemy in conversation were distinguishable and then they sang 
right merrily, to a banjo accompaniment, a ditty to the tune of 
the " Other side of Jordan." This indicated that he was in 
front of Louisianians. It ran thus, — 

" The Louisiana boys air a coming, 
Never mind the Yanks but get upon their flanks, — 
And you'll send them to the other side of Jor — dan." 

Followed by a shouting chorus of 

" Ho ! ho ! ho ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! " 

While noting the various sounds which had guided his 
direction he still kept slowly and cautiously in motion, all the 
while descending a sharp declivity. At its foot was a bog be-> 
yond which evidently was the corresponding rise to the descent 
which he had been following. Everything hidden in the im- 
penetrable gloom, he judged this rise to be the enemy's line, 
nnd concluded, but with no warrant except supposition, that it 
was probably the eminence Sykes had taken and from which 
he had so summarily withdrawn. Confronted by this obstruc- 
tion so near the enemy and with nothing yet to indicate he 
could accomplish his mission, he ventured in guarded tones to 
call "Where is the picket line?" "Which picket line?" anxiously 
responded a familiar voice. To assure himself he had not 
mistaken it, the cautious exclamation, " Is that ycu, Crocker? " 
brought the welcome " Yes," and pushing through the jungle 
a few feet they were together. Why he had come — it was 
almost anticipated — was quickly told. The delicate man- 
oeuvring necessary to assemble the detail without arousing 






- i8i 




attention was slowly and successfully accomplished. They 
were all assembled at the point designated, and with their 
march directed by the same 
officer whohad borne the in- 
structions reached the com- 
mand about two o'clock in 
the morning, still in the 
same position in which he 
had left it. The whole force 
was then immediately re- 
tired, and after a toilsome 
march, wearisome from the 
many exciting changes of 
the day, bivouacked to- 
wards daylight somewhere 
on the road leading to 
Banks's Ford. 

All these vacillating and apparently mysterious movements, 
with the knowledge of the further abandonment of the emi- 
nence, the occupation of which the soldiers who knew of it still 
felt assured was essential to success, had in no way restored 
confidence. 

The desultory operations of the previous day, indicating first 
a disposition to attack, and again a desire to await assault, 
ceased entirely the next morning, when it was quite apparent 
that all purpose of assaulting the enemy had been wholly 
abandoned, for at early dawn on the second the troops were set 
to work to entrench. The earth-works, with a parapet some 
three feet high, were substantially revetted and covered as far 
as could be seen, the distance of about a mile. Not completed 
until the middle of the afternoon they were skilfully constructed 
but poorly located. The disappointment at the evident intent 
to receive instead of give battle was increased by observing the 
unfortunate selection of the ground where it seemed to be the 
purpose to receive it. The line was untenable. In front, 
plainly in view, higher ground commanded nearly all the dis- 



— 182 — 

tance directed to be fortified, and the work of construction was 
prosecuted in a sullen, disapproving silence. 

The day passed with occasional sounds of engagements else- 
where about the lines, but, relieved from the noise of battle and 
the excitement of rapid marching, the masterly inactivity was 
a subject of comment. The timid, panicky operations of the 
two previous days it was believed had encouraged the enemy 
to assume the offensive, and their aggressive manoeuvres it was 
thought would soon force the leaders to find the surest way for 
a safe withdrawal if they were not already contemplating such 
a movement. 

Towards the extreme right of the army, just before sunset, 
there was considerable firing. At dark it had culminated in a 
continuous roar, and, accompanied by the roll and thunder of 
the artillery, indicated an active engagement. There were but 
few moments of suspense. The human voice can be heard 
above the sounds of battle. The piercing shriek of the unmis- 
takable Confederate yells, without a corresponding retort of 
Union cheers, told too plainly that the right had yielded. 
Shortly, as the yells ceased entirely, the firing slackened 
noticeably. 

While the engagement was at its height, just as night closed 
in completely, the division abandoned the position it had held 
during the day and was rapidly moved towards the Chancellors- 
ville House, where it was thrown into earthworks vacated the 
moment before by other troops that had constructed them. 
It was subsequently ascertained that the army was extending its 
right to recover its lost lines. Then commenced a series of 
unauthorized, demoralizing, and dispiriting tactics. Directions 
were first passed along the line from man to man, to spread out 
and cover more ground ; then by the same means of communi- 
cation to turn the visor of the cap to the rear that the rays of 
the moon might not reflect on it ; then they were cautioned to 
keep perfectly still ; then to lie down; then to stand up and 
come to a ready, and then to sit down. And so these and 
various other like instructions, frequently repeated and all 






communicated from one to another in whispering, quivering 
tone, continued until the men were so nervous and unstrung 
that to establish confidence many of the officers seized rifles 
and followed literally all the movements with them. 

The engagement on the right was over and the annoyance 
had ceased, when, about nine o'clock, near the right of the 
regiment, General Howard appeared, followed by a part of his 
discomfited corps, who, as it was then learned, were the forces 
which had so speedily crumbled at the first shock of Stonewall 
Jackson's onslaught, over on the right, where the sounds of 
battle had but recently died away. They moved along silently, 
continuing to pass for over an hour. Their condition did not 
indicate need of much repair, but they were evidently to be 
placed, for the present at least, well out of the reach of danger. 
An impressive silence followed. The insect world was hushed 
and the night birds were voiceless. The breaking of a twig was 
a volume of sound, and the faintest whisper startling. Gentle 
breezes were whistling winds, and falling boughs the tread of 
men. Soldiers heedless of sentiment viewed the quiet as omin- 
ous, men insensible to fear looked upon the stillness as porten- 
tous. The moon, then in the full, shone brightly, its glimmer 
through the tree- tops occasionally fading as swiftly moving, 
fleecy clouds covered its brilliant disk. The pale, changing 
light and the death-like stillness made everything seem unreal 
and ghostly. 

A slight flutter in the immediate front strung every nerve to 
a still higher tension, and piercing glances sought, through the 
uncertain shadows, to ascertain the cause. As the sound grew 
to recognition, a voice cautioned the men to hold their fire, and 
General Griffin, who was returning from an observation of the 
ground his position commanded, passed through the line. 
General Griffin, an officer of unquestioned skill and untiring 
energy, beside the implicit confidence had the unbounded 
respect of every soldier in his division. His presence was 
assuring, and demonstrations were only restrained by the neces- 
sity for perfect quiet. 



— 184 — 

Once more the awful silence reigned, soon disturbed again as 
by the distant rumble of the coming of a mighty tempest. To 
the experienced ear this indescribable whir and sigh as if the 
distant winds were increasing their velocity had another mean- 
ing. It was the hum and buzz and tramp of large bodies of 
men in motion, the rattle and jostle of arms and equipments. 
Nearer and nearer it approached, and louder and louder it 
swelled and spread until the veriest tyro could not mistake it. 
Disciplined battalions were massing for assault, and then dis- 
tinct and audible came the voice of command, its tone loud, 
its volume ringing, as it rolled out the " Battalion " — " halt " — 
" front " — " on the centre, dress," and then a pause, — " battal- 
ion " — " right shoulder shift arms," and still another pause, fol- 
lowed with increased vigor by the " forward " — " guide cen- 
tre" — "march." Other operations elsewhere seemed to dis- 
tract the enemy's attention. At once the stillness vanished, the 
quiet disappeared. Off to the right and front, instantly every 
rifle flashed, every gun thundered and that portion of the Union 
army was hotly engaged in the furies, terrors, and uncertainties 
of a most determined night assault. Under such wicked gun- 
nery and persistent musketry, intensified by the darkness, the 
trees seemed to shiver, the earth to tremble and shake. It 
brought every man to his feet and roused the men of the 6th 
Corps, quietly sleeping miles away in their bivouac beyond 
Fredericksburg. The memorable assault at Chancellorsville 
on the night of the 2d of May, 1863, is not confined in rec- 
ollection to the troops who immediately took part in it. 
Every participant in the great battle will ever vividly recall what 
was then believed, except by the troops engaged at that particu- 
lar point, to be a repulse of the enemy's assault, but which his- 
tory shows to have been, as it has been aptly styled, " Sickles 
fighting his way home again." 

The moonlight battle subsided during the early morning 
hours, and Sunday, the 3d, opened a clear bracing spring 
day. Gossip dwelt on the details of the 1 1 th Corps disaster, 
as it was enlarged by exaggeration and the opportune arrival 




- i85 - 

of the 1st Corps, and concluded with a venture of opinions 
upon the general further contraction and concentration Of the 
lines. 

The officers' supplies were completely exhausted and the 
men's rations were thinned out to a few crackers and a scant 
allowance of coffee. Some who had never before used tobacco 
found it temporarily effective in satisfying the cravings of 
appetite. 

Lieutenant Batchelder, a man of strong nerves and unflinch- 
ing courage, of exceptional firmness in time of peril, took the 
opportunity of a little quiet to communicate to one of his friends 
that he had labored all night with a harrowing presentiment 
that during the day he would certainly be killed. Given to no 
superstition he had struggled to banish the phantom, but it 
would not down, and he had thus sought relief in reluctantly 
communicating his burdensome thoughts to another. Before 
the campaign opened and frequently during its operation he had 
been haunted with horrible dreams of frightful gaping wounds, 
so shocking and repulsive as to be beyond the reach of surgical 
skill or careful nursing. He would awake amid shrieks and 
pains of death and wounds, and rest again only to have these 
distressing scenes repeated. He would not be persuaded 
that all this was the result of some local physical disturb- 
ance, but insisted, with his usual deliberation, upon giving 
directions as to the disposition of his worldly affairs, and that 
the time and place of his fall should be delicately broken to his 
family. It was suggested to him that if he did not expose him- 
self so needlessly and recklessly in the future as he had in the 
past, the catastrophe he dreaded might be averted. Such caution 
was useless. Nevertheless, he survived Chancellorsville and 
other battles, and is still prosperous and diligent, as may be 
incidentally disclosed hereafter. 

At a very early hour Sunday morning the brigade was with- 
drawn from the line it had previously held and moved to the 
road leading to United States Ford. There it remained for 
some time, halted in order of battle near General Sykes's com- 



— 1 86 — 

mand. Wicked fighting was waging fiercely in the front on 
the left. The timber concealed the combatants, but the blue 
smoke hanging over and lingering in the tree-tops indicated 
the lines, and the frequent whir and zip of the balls told of their 
close proximity. There was no lull, no cessation : it was awful 
punishment. The smoke increased to clouds ; the sun, shining 
brightly, was dimmed and darkened as if by an approaching 
storm. The regiment, alone, was then moved on the line and 
put to building breastworks, as subsequently shown not 
for their own occupation, but for the accommodation of the 
regular division. They set about their task manfully, regard- 
less of hunger and the fatigue from the many sleepless nights. 
This work completed, after a short interval of rest, about noon 
the entire brigade was removed, on the road towards Chancel- 
lorsville, to the extreme left of the White House. Approaching 
this point the battle seemed to wax hotter, bursting shells 
filled the air and the yells of the Confederates were incessant. 

The Chancellorsville House itself was not in view. The 
location was a piece of open, cleared land, so difficult to secure 
in the neighborhood, which, by a flank to the left and rear, had 
been entered by Griffin's and other batteries that were now 
heavily engaged, while to the rear of the batteries, and just 
within the timber, was located the general and field-hospital. 
The conflict had approached the hospital uncomfortably close. 
The troops, still hotly at work on the outer lines, were resisting 
assaults preparatory to retiring to the interior ones then in the 
course of preparation, and gradually the hospital had been 
drawn within range. The heavy and increasing casualties had 
crowded its grounds beyond their capacity; the medical force 
was entirely inadequate to the exacting duties thus imposed 
upon it. Several of the surgeons and attendants had been 
killed and wounded, and the panicky sensation following opera- 
tions and attention under fire had materially interfered with a 
prompt and ready service. There was no discrimination and 
the shells tore through these grounds relentlessly. To the 
miseries and sufferings already at hand were added others, and 




- 1 8 7 - 

some of the wounded, as they lay helplessly about, were either 
more frightfully mangled or killed. 

As a result of the concentration the Chancellorsville House 
eventually fell into the possession of the enemy. But before 
it was completely theirs the flames had done their work effec- 
tually and the building was a blackened ruin. 

The attack of the Confederates was so fierce and persistent 
that General Meade ordered General Griffin to put in his divi- 
sion. He asked permission to use the artillery then concen- 
trating in the vicinity, saying : " I'll make them think hell isn't 
half a mile off" Permission being granted, he ordered the 
gunners to double-shot their pieces, let the enemy approach to 
within fifty yards, " and then roll them along the ground like 
this," stooping in imitation of a bowler. 

The immediate duty of the command was the support of the 
batteries thus engaged. The enemy's firing was terrible and 
practice accurate. No other phrase will fairly meet it, except 
that there was a rain of shell and solid shot. The men stood 
it handsomely ; few availed themselves of the privilege of ly- 
ing prone ; the majority assumed a crouching posture with head 
erect, eyes strained and musket upright as if for instant service. 
An officer of a regiment in the brigade, lying upon his back 
reading a newspaper, was struck in the stomach and instantly 
killed. The artillery continued to arrive, either to go imme- 
diately into battery or remain parked in the vicinity. But 
gradually the fire slackened to desultory discharges. 

Batchelder had forgotten his morbid sensitiveness, and, deaf 
to suggestions, was again recklessly exposing himself. An 
abandoned limber-chest seemed to be a point of attraction, and, 
heedless of all danger, he had selected it as a suitable place of 
observation. He stood upon it, conspicuous, closely observing 
with a pair of field-glasses, drawing the enemy's fire directly to 
him, but so elated with the splendid view it gave him of the 
battle that he declined to retire at the earnest solicitation of 
those around him, and remained until Colonel Prevost peremp- 
torily ordered him to return to his post. It was a reluctant 



— 188 — 

obedience. He withdrew, grumbling that it was shameful to 
deprive a man of such an opportunity, as he probably wouldn't 
have another such chance in a lifetime. 

There were other points of observation equally available and 
less exposed. These were resorted to by several of the curi- 
ously inclined. At an angle in the breastworks lately con- 
structed stood the White House before referred to, the property 
of one Burns. In front and to the left of this house there was 
excellent opportunity for a view of the active combat. The 
few points in this thickly-wooded region to designate locality 
has brought this unpretentious dwelling into distinguished 
prominence. In its rear a large tent had been pitched for the 
use of army head-quarters. The flaps open, its occupants and 
their doings were plainly in view. General Hooker, in reclin- 
ing posture, still suffering from the blow he received from a 
falling pillar of the Chancellorsville House, was surrounded by 
a number of general and staff-officers. The libations, in view of 
the character of the surroundings, were quite imposing, and the 
beverage luxuriant and expensive. The light wines of France 
were apparently the exclusive tipple. The many abandoned 
bottles, the broken and empty baskets, the frequent and sug- 
gestive popping of champagne corks indicated a free and 
liberal allowance of this intoxicant, just then so exclusively 
confined to army head-quarters. An impertinent fellow, en- 
viously overlooking the scene, observing General Hooker as 
the only one of the party not upon his feet, inquired the cause. 
A volunteer reply was made by an officer near by to the effect 
»that he had been shot. " Shot in the neck," quickly responded 
the inquirer. Fearing the consequence of his levity he quickly 
hid himself in the crowd, but not before the restrained smile 
with which his response was received assured him in his belief 
that he had not shot very far from the mark. 

There were other scenes about these head-quarters interest- 
ing, startling, significant. Officers were coming and going in 
hot, important haste, some with reports, others with directions. 
Guns hurried to position were crashing to their places and 



— 1 89 — 

quickly unlimbering. Hundreds of men without organization 
were passing to the rear. Riderless horses, many of them 
badly wounded, wandered helplessly about. One with the 
blood spouting from a wound in the chest was galloping aim- 
lessly in every direction, with pleading, suppliant look as if for 
some intelligent direction where to go and what to do. A 
mounted officer, observing his hopeless condition, fired two 
pistol shots to relieve his sufferings, and then rode rapidly 
away as if he did not care to see the dying agonies. But 
his shots were ineffectual ; the poor beast struggled again 
and again to regain his feet, and then was forgotten amid other 
quickly accumulating, harrowing scenes. The battle still raged 
fiercely, each determined onslaught being each time heroically 
resisted. 

Active participants see but little of the battle. To those 
who chose to take the risk of observation from the position in 
front of the White House about this time it was a rare and 
thrilling sight. The open ground in front covered about one 
hundred and fifty yards, dipped slightly in the centre and 
terminated in a sparsely-wooded crest. 

In the timber on the crest was a Union line of battle, hold- 
ing its regular formation, firing and loading with deliberation 
and slowly retiring. Beyond, waving battle-flags, butternut 
uniforms, gleaming muskets were gradually advancing. They 
were firing as they moved forward, their ramrods flashing in 
the sun as they executed the motion of draw and return 
rammer and ram cartridge. On they came, undeterred by the 
close and terrible fire punishing them. The Union line stood 
the shock commendably. Then came the desperate moment 
of impact ; the mingling of the blue and gray ; the exchange 
of bayonet-thrusts and shouts of defiance, cheers and yells of 
victory, shrieks and groans, and, in a confused and shapeless 
mass, friend and foe broke madly for the guns — the one for their 
capture, the other for protection. The peculiar, piercing yells 
of the rebels seemed for a moment to drown all other sounds. 
But before all the Union line had found the friendlv shelter of 



— 190 — 

their cannon the guns belched forth their death-dealing can- 
ister; the enemy's yells of delight were changed to wails of 
disappointment ; his impetuous advance was broken ; his lines, 
confused beyond recovery after leaving the timber, disappeared 
entirely, and of those who did leave the timber few ever returned. 
Most of them found death and wounds on the open ground 
which the determined impetuosity of their onslaught and their 
conspicuous daring had prompted them to enter. This attack 
fell upon Tyler's brigade of Humphrey's division, sent tempora- 
rily to reinforce French, of the 2d Corps. After an hour's 
desperate and gallant fighting their ammunition was nearly 
exhausted, and they were struck as they were about to execute 
the order to retire. 

One poor fellow fell under the fire of our guns just as he had 
reached them. After the affair an attempt was made to dis- 
cover his identity. In the confusion he had become separated 
from his comrades, and there was neither name, mark nor sign 
about him to indicate who he was or where he belonged. He 
was buried where he fell, another of the rapidly-increasing 
patriot army of the unknown dead. 

It was nearly two o'clock when the Chancellorsville House 
was abandoned, but the tremendous artillery firing and des- 
perate, hard fighting all day checked the enemy's advance all 
along the lines. Flames and fire were added to the other 
terrors. The woods had caught from the artillery and the 
wounded and dying in their midst were beyond the hope of 
rescue. This was a truce of itself, and apparently by general 
consent there was a lull in the hostilities as the exterior lines 
gradually melted away behind the troops holding the interior 
lines. 

Before the engagement in front had wholly ceased uproarious, 
lusty shouts and cheers attracted attention towards the left. 
As the cheering grew nearer there appeared a crowd of men 
dragging several pieces of cannon ; one had the muzzle blown 
away and all looked as if they 'had seen rough usage. They 
were a battery of guns abandoned by our forces, which had 



— I 9 1 — 

just been brought in amidst a galling fire under the direction 
of a gallant officer of the 116th Pennsylvania, and General 
Hancock had ordered them dragged along the lines by their 
captors as an evidence of special gallantry and an incen- 
tive to other acts of heroism. The whole line joined heartily 
in the shouts of welcome to the men who had thus so notably 
distinguished themselves. 

v Towards the middle of the afternoon the regiment was tem- 
porarily withdrawn a short distance for an opportunity to pre- 
pare coffee. It was rather tantalizing ; the diminished supply 
made the opportunity available only to those who had more 
carefully husbanded their stores, while the others who could 
neither borrow nor beg nibbled at crackers and strolled about 
in the few moments of leisure and offered their services and 
attentions to the wounded. One strong, powerful fellow with 
his foot badly shattered had just been placed upon the tempo- 
rary table. He fought stoutly against the operation, and at 
first forcibly resisted an effort to chloroform him, but persuaded 
it was for examination only, gradually yielded his conscious- 
ness to its soothing effects. The knife was applied by Dr. 
Joseph Thomas, our regimental surgeon, whose skill in opera- 
tive surgery was always recognized by his detail in battle to the 
general field-hospital. The flaps were made; the bone severed; 
the arteries adjusted with prompt and skilful precision, and, 
recovering consciousness, the patient, as he was removed to 
the ambulance, joyfully remarked that he was very glad the 
examination had resulted in the conclusion that amputation 
would not be necessary. The poor fellow had not yet realized 
his loss, and, knowing nothing of what had transpired while he 
remained insensible, still labored under the pleasing deception. 
Great enthusiasm prevailed during the afternoon on the re- 
ception of the news of the capture by General Sedgwick of the 
formidable works at Marye's Heights and his successful move- 
ment out the plank-road toward the main army. The subse- 
quent disaster that attended his operations, although it had 
already happened, was not yet known. 



— 192 — 

The command was soon returned to the lines at the White or 
Burns' House and set about strengthening the earthworks, 
which had been but illy-constructed affairs from the beginning. 
The bodies of the dead horses in the neighborhood were put to 
practical uses for the elevation. With earth heaped and well 
packed around them they answered the purpose of solid works 
of earth and saved much labor in digging. 

Thus closed this eventful and exciting Sunday, a day fated 
with disaster, but big with valorous deeds and heroic sacrifices. 
The same lines taken up by the brigade on the 3d continued to 
be held by it during all of that and the succeeding days while 
the army remained in position facing the enemy. It was the 
general impression that hard fighting was about over and the 
night's rest was most refreshing. 

Tire 4th dawned with every indication of the continued 
uninterrupted clear weather. Crocker, who had pitched his 
shelter-tent, rose grumpy and discomfited. The ground his 
canvas covered, uneven and yielding, had afforded him no spot 
where his body could be brought to anything like a comfortable 
position. Making search for the cause with the earliest break 
of day, he discovered he had spread his canvas in the darkness 
over a new and hastily-made grave. The obstructions he had 
been tugging at to remove during the night were the exposed 
nose and fingers of its partially-covered occupant, and the soft, 
yielding body was the cause of his couch's spongy uneasiness. 
Crocker shook, spit and coughed a little, but his momentary 
discomfiture soon gave way before his usual buoyancy. 

The picket-line held the edge of the timber that bounded the 
open space in front of the woods. The enemy's sharpshooters 
back in the woods, hidden from view in the tree-tops, had 
secured a very accurate range of the troops occupying the 
breastworks, and with the earliest dawn they began their prac- 
tice. Exposure was useless and the men were enjoined to 
seek the cover of the works. Any one standing or on horse- 
back was an excellent mark and immediately drew the fire. 

Homer Lancaster, of Company B, was lying on the ground 







MAP OF VICINITY OF CHANCELLORSVILLE, SHOWING POSITION OF U8th. 



— 193 — 

^asleep, face downwards, with his knapsack and rolled blanket 
on his back. A bullet from the sharpshooter went through his 
blanket and wounded him in the neck, but not severely. Lieu- 
tenant Thomas, struck in the shoulder, was felled to the ground, 
but the ball had nearly spent its force and did no injury. It 
was picked up and found to be of the elongated pattern, the 
ammunition used by Kerdan's sharpshooters. The enemy 
were either supplied with the terrible globe-sighted weapons 
of that or similar make, or had been fortunate in the capture of 
some. 

About two o'clock General Whipple, whose division of the 
3d Corps lay in the vicinity, while inspecting the lines in his 
Tieighborhood, appeared leisurely walking his horse in rear of 
the works. Unfamiliar with the surroundings, recognized as a 
general officer, he was politely cautioned that his exposure 
brought him in imminent peril, as the enemy had complete 
range of every living object they could get their eyes upon. 
Indeed this was scarcely necessary, for he was almost imme- 
diately opened on, but, heedless of the caution and regardless 
•of the firing, he continued his movement without accelerating 
his pace until he had reached the right of the regiment. There 
he deliberately halted, faced to the front and sat intently gazing 
in the direction of the other side. In a moment the dust was 
■seen to fly from his clothing and he fell headlong to the ground 
Hurrying to his assistance it was found the ball had entered 
through the stomach and passed out at the small of the back. 
He must have instantly known his wound was mortal. Al- 
though conscious he betrayed neither emotion nor anxiety, 
and without speech or moan seemed to stolidly accept his fate 
with true and determined heroism. Stretcher-bearers bore him 
to the cover of the timber in the rear, and apparently he died 
from hemorrhage while the surgeons were examining the 
wound; but he subsequently rallied and survived until his re- 
moval to Washington. 

There were other less distinguished sufferers from the bullets 
of the Confederate sharpshooters, and one of them was Peter 
13 



— 194 — 

Haggerty. Peter's head was so large, or the army caps were 
so small, that he could never get one to fit him, and the unfit- 
ness of things was still more clearly exhibited by his persistent 
habit of wearing the peak of his cap at the back of his head. 
The summit of Peter's person was filled with recklessness and 
he did not know what fear was, because he had no real knowl- 
edge of what there was to fear. An hour or so before General 
Whipple was shot Haggerty was standing on a stump, shaking 
his fist towards the rebel lines and doing about every other 
foolish thing he could think of. Cautioned to get down and 
keep out of harm's way, he cried out : " Ah ! there's no rebel 
bullet made that'll touch me." A few seconds after there came 
from him a howl that, for volume and intensity, was sufficient 
mourning for all his ancestors from the days of Brian Boroihme 
down, and the descendant of the Haggertys was dancing and 
limping round as if he had been the recipient of the attentions 
of a circle of mules. He had been hit in the leg by a spent 
ball. Farewell, Haggerty. His head was never seen in the 
regiment again. 

As it was about time this particular sharpshooter should be 
silenced, a lieutenant belonging to Berdan's sharpshooters passed 
through the regiment, and the skirmishers beyond, and felt 
his way through the woods towards the spot whence came the 
annoying fire. He found him up a tree. He left him on the 
ground. A rifle, a fox-skin cap, $1,600 in Confederate money 
and $100 in greenbacks the lieutenant brought back with him. 

Except the booming of cannon in the direction of Sedg- 
wick's force and the uninterrupted vigilance of the sharp- 
shooters, there was nothing of stirring moment until about four 
o'clock in the afternoon, when the 2d and 3d Brigades of the 
division began preparations for an advance. 

At five o'clock they moved out, and the 1st Brigade, extend- 
ing its intervals, covered their ground and its own. They were 
a shapely body; their colors fluttered defiantly, muskets glis- 
tened brightly, and elbows touched lightly. Preserving their 
alignments with precision, with a ringing cheer they covered 






— 195 — 

the intervening open space at the double-quick, and were soon 
lost in the timber beyond. Their disappearance was almost 
instantly followed by startling volleys of musketry, and then 
again by their reappearance. The warm reception showed a 
determined occupation, and their purpose accomplished, they 
were at once returned to the line and the 1st Brigade resumed 
its proper position. 

Active hostilities were continued in the direction of Fred- 
ericksburg. The artillery firing increased in volume, and did 
not subside entirely until some time after dark. Alarms on the 
picket line occasionally disturbed the night, another day closed 
and the vexed question as to who would maintain control of 
the situation was still an open one. Great battles are said to 
conclude with violent storms. So far the inference had failed, 
and the 5th opened with the usual bright inspiring sunlight. 

Shortly after dawn the desultory picket firing assumed a 
scolding tone, and continuing for some time a persistent 
advance broke the picket line in front of the 1st Michigan, 
and the pickets fell back to the main line. The enemy pursued, 
advancing beyond the cover of the timber. He was permitted 
to enjoy his temporary advantage until the field was cleared of 
the retiring pickets, when several well-directed rounds of can- 
ister sent him quickly to his cover again. 

It was necessary to speedily restore the broken lines, and the 
duty devolved upon details from the 1st Brigade, one hundred 
and sixty of whom, with a proper complement of officers, were 
allotted from the 11 8th. Captain Donaldson was assigned to 
the command of the entire brigade line; Lieutenants Batchel- 
der and Thomas were also detailed from the regiment, and Cap- 
tain O'Neill, at his own request, was permitted to accompany 
the detachment as a volunteer. 

O'Neill was a quaint character. He was the ranking captain 
of the regiment, but on this occasion, craving some excitement, 
freely yielded his grade, for, as he oddly expressed it, he " was 
divelish tired of marking time behind the breastworks." He 
reported with overcoat, haversack, and shelter tent, equipped 



— 196 — 

for a lengthy march. When his attention was called to the fact 
that his tour of duty would probably be short, and he would 
likely soon return to his place in the line again, he persistently 
declined to relieve himself of his burden, remarking, in defence 
of his position, " There is nothing like always being in chune " 
(tune). Translated, he meant that it was better to be prepared 
for an emergency. He was selected for the prominent place of 
senior captain, as he had seen service with the British Indian 
contingent, and delighted to condemn all American army usages 
which he could not be made to understand, by the sweeping 
denunciation that " that was not the way they did it in Injee, 
when he served with her Majesty's 39th foot." What his 
Indian service was was never fully understood, nor did he 
vouchsafe to boast that his regiment, besides bearing upon its 
banners the evidence of its achievements in the Peninsular 
campaign, bore upon them also the still prouder distinction 
"Primus in Indus" for its eminent services with Lord Clive at 
Plassey. His quaintness, his oddity, his national mannerisms, 
his brogue and his many mistakes, which he had a happy way 
of gilding, ever supposing they had passed unnoticed or been 
forgotten, had secured him the sobriquet of " Owld Teddy." 
Yet with all his want of knowledge of military manoeuvres, 
his intuitive Irish humor, his natural hard honest sense, his 
fierce bravery, his unsparing bitterness against the enemy, and 
his intense desire for fight had caused him to be much 
respected. It was this disposition not to miss a fight, so com- 
mon to Irishmen, that doubtless prompted his volunteer service 
on this occasion. 

General Griffin personally supervised the movement. His in- 
structions were, that in case of a failure to reach the timber, the 
pickets should form in the depression about half way across 
the open space, that the artillery might fire over them, to aid 
their further progress. The signal for the advance was to be 
the dropping of a red flag in one of the batteries. The deploy- 
ment was made in rear of the works with shortened intervals, 
and the men were personally cautioned as to their duties 






— 197 — 



and responsibilities. They seemed to be in special humor for 
their task, and determined that nothing should stay their 
advance before they reached the timber. They felt that that 
once gained, their dislodgement would be difficult. O'Neill 
was assigned to the right, Batch elder to the left. At a con- 
certed signal the flag was dropped, and responsive to the 
" double-quick, charge," given by Captain Donaldson and vo- 
ciferously repeated all along the line, the men at once rushed 
from their conceal- 
ment and gallantly 
breasted the storm 
of bullets that met 
them as they passed 
out in the open plain. 
Encouraging shouts 
and cheers from the 
brigade greeted the 
m o v e m e n t, and 
nerved the men to 
an accomplishment 
of their purpose. 
Batchelder, who, as 
always, was per- 
sonally in front of 
his line, with sword 
slashing the air, and 
shouting loudly, kept 

his left continually captain f. a. Donaldson. 

in the advance But the centre and right, not to be out- 
done, were promptly up, and the whole line, without hesitat- 
ing at the tempting cover the depression invited, and facing 
the blaze of musketry that flashed from the timber, had soon 
pressed the enemy's fire from its edge, and were in full occu- 
pancy of the abandoned line. O'Neill and Batchelder, regard- 
less of their instructions, in the excitement of the venture, thus 
far so successful, were still urging their men forward. Their 




— 198 — 

loud vociferations were necessarily restrained. Batchelder 
quickly subsided, but O'Neill, in anger or excitement, contin- 
ually bearing in mind a man in his company, Tom Scout, whom 
he especially disliked, incensed at the restraint, continued to 
shout, " Out, Scout, bad luck to yez, why do yees stand mark- 
ing time ? Go forward, every one of yees." 

When these officers had been quieted and the point effectu- 
ally secured for the establishment of the line, as is not unusual 
with the best of men there was some competition for trees. 
Choice ones of large circumference had been each seized by 
three or four. As the man in front of the group was the only 
one who could use his rifle, the others were reluctantly forced 
to seek other cover or take the risk of open exposure. All, 
however, stood their ground and maintained their fire, and the 
enemy, who had it all their own way while the troops were 
crossing the plain without firing, were compelled also to find 
protection and shoot only as opportunity offered. Lieutenant 
Thomas, meanwhile, had been sent to report the successful 
occupation, and, returning with entrenching tools, individual 
rifle pits were constructed for an extended stay. Shortly after 
their completion the enemy fell back and their fire slackened, 
and an occasional slouch hat bobbing up and down among the 
bushes was all that could be seen of them. 

Thomas, an eminently brave and excellent officer, fond of his 
creature comforts, always secured the best advantages attainable 
for their satisfaction. Opportunity for rest, entertainment or 
reflection, if not interfering with his duties, he habitually man- 
aged to enjoy, if at all within reach. Dangers or exposure in 
no way interfered. He managed to have constructed for him- 
self a more commodious pit than the others, and, quietly 
ensconcing himself under its protection, selected a Waveriy 
Magazine from among other literature of a like character that 
had been abandoned by some of the previous occupants of the 
locality, and was soon lost to the surroundings absorbed in an 
entertaining story. 

Meanwhile, O'Neill had again been heard from. As his 






— i 9 9 — 

activity Lad been restrained in checking his advance, he was 
determined not to be entirely inactive, and had opened an 
unauthorized communication with the enemy, looking to a 
temporary cessation of hostilities. He conducted his truce 
with some degree of diplomatic skill. Intimating by signs he 
desired to hold a parley, his invitation was accepted, and the 
officer of the Confederate pickets met him at a log about half 
way between the lines, which they had both indicated as the 
point for the conference. There they seated themselves, and 
proceeded with deliberation to discuss the purpose of their 
mission. O'Neill cautiously parried all attempts to ascertain 
his name or his command, and the strength and position of our 
forces. Save that his badge showed he belonged to the 5th 
Corps, and the number in his cap that he was of some 118th 
Regiment, nothing was disclosed. They freely interchanged 
views on the subject of picket firing after troops had occupied 
the same position upwards of twenty-four hours, in, as O'Neill 
expressed it, " a bit of a talk." The Confederate officer was 
firm in his convictions that, under ordinary circumstances, it 
was a useless exposure and a waste of ammunition. O'Neill 
agreed with him and, although not in command, assumed to 
act for his commanding officer. They parted with the under- 
standing that the firing should cease, and that timely notice 
should be given if either side was ordered to open again ; or if 
either should be relieved, and the troops relieving them should 
not agree to continue the truce. O'Neill's agreement was 
tacitly accepted, and the understanding was faithfully carried 
out until that detachment was relieved. 

The firing was still maintained actively on the immediate left. 
Some of the bullets after passing beyond the line exploded. Such 
cartridges, unknown to our use, had usually been considered 
the English explosive ammunition, imported through blockade- 
runners. About eleven o'clock a small party appeared in that 
direction, accompanied by a mounted officer bearing a flag of 
truce. They passed through the lines, and as the fire gradually 
slackened and finally ceased altogether, it indicated that the 



— 20O — ■ 

flag had been respected. Its purpose was said to be the 
recovery of the body of Major Chandler, of the 114th Penn- 
sylvania. As it did not return within the reach of observation, 
it was not ascertained whether the mission was successful. 

The firing in the timber had somewhat subsided. It was at 
a distance from this locality. The unburied dead, thickly 
strewn everywhere, indicated the vicinity had been the scene 
of some most serious fighting. The Confederate dead predom- 
inated, their scanty clothing and poor equipments in marked: 
contrast with the more substantial and better appointments of 
the Union men. A notable peculiarity was the unaccountable 
difference in the positions of the bodies of the Union and the 
Confederate dead. The former were all upon their sides or 
faces, with their knees drawn up, while the latter were all flat 
upon their backs, their legs spread out, and their hands 
clinched convulsively, mostly grasping a twig or bough. 
Several attempts were made to account for this noticeable 
difference, but none seemed satisfactory. From the Union 
dead all the haversacks had been removed. It was evident, 
short as his supplies had run, the scanty portion remaining was 
some relief to his more famished adversary. 

The rations had not been replenished, and, though the old 
supply was now entirely gone, other comforts were measurably 
increased. The many blankets scattered about the field were 
gathered, and fifteen or twenty appropriated to each pit. Such 
an agreeable couch was most unusual. 

The quiet afforded opportunity to ascertain the losses. 
Quite a number from the regiment were wounded in the ad- 
vance across the plain, and several had been hit on the line but 
refused to leave their post. 

The prediction of the battle storm was verified before the 
day closed. About two o'clock dense clouds suddenly appeared' 
in every direction, followed immediately by sweeping torrents 
of rain. It was not a shower, but a storm of strength and 
force, meant to discharge all the 'accumulations that had been 
gathering unseen for the several previous days. The pits soon 



— 201 — 

filled with water and were untenable, and everything but ammu- 
nition soaking wet. 

The lowering clouds brought on darkness early, and with it 
came an intimation from the enemy that they were about to be 
relieved by Mississippians. Not conversant with the notions of 
the relief on the subject of picket firing, they suggested the 
propriety of seeking cover and watching sharply. The temper- 
ature had fallen, the mud had deepened, and the pits, with 
water still rising, were almost overflowed. Mindful of the 
terms of the truce, the men set about bailing their dug-outs, 
and sought the cover their damp and muddy walls afforded. 
The warning had come none too soon, as the relief, with no 
disposition to test the temper of their adversaries, immediately 
opened an angry skirmish fire. Besides, they were a wicked, 
designing crew, continually through the night conceiving pro- 
jects to harass. The one generally practiced was to cau- 
tiously creep close to the works, then suddenly rise, flash a 
lantern, fire a shot and disappear. This manoeuvre resulted in 
several disabling wounds. These active hostilities permitted 
no interval for bailing out, and the pits were again soon waist- 
deep. It was one satisfaction to know the enemy were equally 
uncomfortable, and another to feel that the punishment they 
were inflicting was being vigorously applied to them. 

But O'Neill must not be forgotten. Just as the storm began 
he had conspicuously pitched his shelter-tent in full view of the 
enemy. Plentifully supplied with blankets, protected from the 
storm, he was hugely enjoying his comforts, whiling away the 
time with a newspaper. Meanwhile, with the darkness, the 
firing was resumed, but not to O'Neill's discomfort. He 
had come provided with all appliances for a lengthy stay, and 
audaciously proceeded to light up his den and adjust his candle 
to continue his reading. His form was plainly visible under 
the canvas, and there he lay pursuing his readings, utterly heed- 
less of the many bullets that fell about the lighted target he so 
conspicuously displayed. Once only did he seem disturbed, as 
he rose, mumbling imprecations, to stop with a newspaper a 



— 202 — 

bullet hole through which rain was dripping, much to his 
annoyance. To repeated directions to extinguish his light he 
returned the answer that he " didn't care a divil for the firing, 
as he would as soon be shot as drowned entirely." As his 
candle was noticed to be flickering in its socket, he was per- 
mitted to retain it until it was wholly extinguished. He never 
afterwards explained how the light in any way aided the canvas 
in affording protection from the storm, and why he would not 
have been just as likely to be preserved from drowning if he 
had depended wholly upon it and abandoned his candle. So 
it was generally believed that, without directly asserting it, he 
meant to use some of his own aphorisms that would convey to 
him. if it did not to others, the indifference with which he 
usually accepted the presence of danger. 

The rain had so covered the open field between the pickets 
and the main line as to throw over it uncertain reflections, and 
induce a belief that objects, real or imaginary, were occasionally 
moving across it. About one o'clock one of these objects 
assumed sufficient reality to prompt a challenge from Captain 
Donaldson. The reply, " a friend," followed by the click of a 
pistol trigger, removed all doubts and the soldierly form of 
Major Herring, whose voice had been recognized, loomed up 
through the darkness. Assured that he was among friends, he 
approached and made known the object of his visit. The storm 
had dispelled any idea of further operations, if there had been 
any, and all wheels excepting a few batteries had, during the 
afternoon, been sent to the other side of the river. The works 
had been rendered untenable by the openings necessary to dis- 
charge the water. The army had commenced to withdraw at dark, 
and the movement thus far had progressed successfully. He 
had been assigned to command the rear guard, with instructions 
to bring off the pickets, or abandon them as the necessity or 
opportunities demanded. Colonel Hays, with the 18th Massa- 
chusetts, who, at his own request, had been detailed to support 
the pickets if their withdrawal was found practicable, was just 
then in line of battle between the picket line and the works. 




— 203 — 

Major Herring had been floundering about in the darkness, 
vainly searching for the pickets for an hour or more, and was 
utterly lost and bewildered when he came upon the 18th Massa- 
chusetts, bound upon the same search. He at first believed he 
had fallen upon a body of the enemy, and approached with some 
degree of caution, but, discovering ultimately the organization 
and its purpose, he induced Colonel Hays to remain outside the 
works and await his return from a further search. 

The withdrawal of the pickets, if it could be accomplished, 
was to take place without delay, and when Major Herring 
returned to the breastworks there were still some two hours of 
darkness left. He gave instructions to assemble the pickets at 
an early opportunity and retire to the breastworks, as the first 
rallying point, and there await the earliest indications of day for 
such instructions or action as the occasion might require. By 
three o'clock they were all assembled, and had moved stealthily 
over the plain without arousing the enemy's suspicions, and 
were within the works awaiting daybreak. There was much 
difficulty in arousing the men. In this private John L. Smith, 
of Company K, an active, energetic soldier, materially aided the 
officers. The men who were not on post had become numbed 
and chilled, and had dropped off in the deepest slumbers. One 
poor fellow, even with Smith's energies, would not stir, and had 
to be abandoned. Noticing the withdrawal, the 1 8th Massa- 
chusetts also moved inside of the works and held itself in 
readiness for support. 

At daybreak the enemy moved out in pursuit. Their skir- 
mishers were twice the front that was obtainable with safe inter- 
vals by our detail, and our line was withdrawn some half a mile to 
again await their advance. A road improvised for army pur- 
poses was the only pathway through the woods. The mud was 
knee-deep, and the rain still poured incessantly. A number of 
caissons and battery wagons mired to the axle had been aban- 
doned. Another day's delay might have materially interfered 
with a successful withdrawal. 

The enemy again appeared, this time more vigorously. An 



— 204 — 

active encounter ensued, and their onslaught was repulsed. 
Batchelder pressed his advantage handsomely on the left, and 
pushed them back some distance. Major Herring, who retained 
command of the rear guard during the entire withdrawal, had 
now succeeded in securing a fresh detail from the brigade, to 
relieve some of the famished and exhausted men who had served 
so continuously and faithfully. They were sent to reinforce 
Batchelder, who was instructed to extend his left and keep it 
well refused. This movement seemed to attract some atten- 
tion, as it was followed by a stiff and persistent attack on the 
centre. It produced a momentary panicy sensation, but confi- 
dence was immediately regained and the line promptly restored. 
Colonel Hays treated it in an unwarrantably boisterous manner, 
drew his pistol and berated the men with language they illy 
deserved. His attention was called to the restored condition 
of things, he subsided to his accustomed affability, and leaving 
a portion of his own men as reinforcements returned to his 
immediate command. 

This skirmish had subsided when a captain of the regular 
brigade, under instructions from General Ayres, appeared upon 
the scene, and deploying his detachment attempted to assume 
entire control. His conduct was sternly protested against by 
Captain Donaldson, and he was informed -that the troops he 
was attempting to relieve were covering the rear of the army, 
by direction of General Barnes, commanding the 1st Brigade 
of the 1st Division, 5th Corps, and placed there by his orders, 
and would only be relieved by them or those of his superior, 
and that General Ayres was not recognized as such superior. 
After much parley and palaver and reference of the question 
to General Griffin, who decided the regular had no business 
there, he finally withdrew. As it subsequently appeared, al 
though no one seemed to know it just at that time, General 
Ayres had been detailed as the general officer of the pickets, 
with special instructions to cover the withdrawal of the army, 
and his authority was, of course, supreme. 

The pickets continued to fall back slowly, fighting all the 



— 205 — 

way and halting at times to let everything get over the bridges, 
until they reached the edge of the timber which overlooked 
United States Ford. From there to the river the land was 
cleared and sloped gradually to the ford. The left bank was 
lined with artillery in battery. The enemy again began to 
press actively, when, obedient to command, the skirmishers fell 
back at double-quick to the foot of the slope, where, assembling 
on the centre, they were out of the range of the guns, which 
instantly swept the forests with rattling discharges, continuing 
the practice until the pickets were all over and the bridges 
removed. Their removal, in which the picket detachment 
assisted, began about nine o'clock, and, amid the pour of rain 
and roar of guns, was soon successfully accomplished.* 

This whole affair, conducted with skill, tact and courage, 
received the personal commendation of the regimental, brigade 
and division commanders, the latter of whom mentioned that 
in announcing it in general orders, as he intended to do, he 
would make special mention of the commanding officer. 

Other detachments from the brigade reported, and all set 
about the laborious work of loading the pontoons. It was 
nearly night when the work was finished, and the march com- 
menced back to the old camping-ground, most of the army 
having reached their winter encampment during the day. 

The artillery and caissons had ploughed the road into a con- 
dition that made the marching of the men more like the work- 
ing of a tread-mill than anything else. Here and there the 
rotd passed over clay land. These spots had been made pools 
of puddled clay, but their smooth surfaces looked, in the dark- 
ness, like stretches of sand. William Gabe, of Company K, 
taking one of them for solid ground, was disappointed, and 
tumbled in. He was fished out after one-half of his body was 
submerged. Daylight, next morning, showed him to be half 

* The Compte de Paris says in his work, » The History of the Civil War in 

America," Vol. III., p. 113 : " « (S'h Cor P s ) crossed over the tw ° bridgES ' leaV " 
ing the post of honor-which was the rear guard of the whole army-to the regu- 
lar infantry." The text flatly contradicts this statement, and the text is right. 



— 206 

blue and half yellow — a sort of harlequin uniform, hitherto 
unknown in the army. 

Passing Hartwood Church, sorely tempted by the familiar 
surroundings and the prospect of a substantial meal, several 
officers quietly dropped out. After a free indulgence in coffee, 
corn-bread, ham and hominy, they sought the farmer's wood- 
shed, just for a little further rest. They had no notion of 
remaining but a moment, but weary and jaded they soon 
forgot themselves in sleep, and knew nothing of their where- 
abouts until the breaking day aroused them to the reality of 
their situation, and they hurriedly resumed their journey. 
They had progressed but a few miles when their tramp was 
suddenly interrupted by the approach of a general officer and 
his staff. The general officer proved to be General Wadsworth, 
who angrily inquired what spirit of demoralization was prevalent 
in the 5th Corps which would permit a half dozen officers to be 
straggling some five or ten miles from their command. He 
demanded to know their names and organizations. One of 
the number, quick at manufactured and ready responses, replied 
that they belonged to Colonel Johnson's 25th New York, and 
gave, as the reason for straggling, that the colonel had led off 
on the return march at such a rapid rate that it was impossible 
to keep up with him, and that weary and worn they had reluct- 
antly fallen out, and were now making haste to rejoin their com- 
mand. Fictitious names were furnished the general, who left 
with the remark that he would take pains to have General 
Griffin informed of the utter lack of discipline existing in his 
25th New York Regiment. Whether Colonel Johnson ever 
heard of the affair was never ascertained ; probably not, as the 
party, who themselves kept the matter concealed, never heard 
that he did. The 25th New York, too, had been purposely 
selected, as it was a two-years regiment, with its term about 
expiring, which made it less likely that the occurrence, with 
troops so soon to leave the service, would ever be seriously 
inquired into. 

The half-dozen officers were not all who fell out by the way. 



— 207 




" ";"•' ...'. 



— 208 — 

As the regiment came to a piece of woods that seemed to 
invite by its shelter and material for fires, nearly all quietly left 
the lines and bivouacked. After the fighting and marching from 
the time the movement commenced, and the arduous duty that 
the regiment had been performing for over thirty consecutive 
hours, it was a fraction too much to expect them to march in 
mud and rain and blinding darkness, a distance of twelve miles 
or more. 

The return to the Potomac Creek Camp did not wholly con- 
clude the campaign. Through some misunderstanding the 
troops assigned to guard the pontoon train on its return march 
had permitted it to find its way home alone. When this appa- 
rent abandonment was known, considerable anxiety was mani- 
fested for its safety, and on the 8th a detachment of the 1 1 8th, 
under Major Herring, was sent to its assistance. He marched 
all day, bivouacking for the night at Berea Church, on the plan- 
tation of a Miss Withers, and there ascertaining the train had 
meanwhile safely reached its park, returned the next day to the 
regiment. 

One of the detachment sent on this duty, a German, foot-sore 
and weary, on the return march gave out and sat down by the 
roadside, demoralized to the utmost. A teamster, driving by, 
upbraided him for falling out. Chris, for that was his name, in 
mixed English, answered : " Yah, dot is very nice for you fel- 
lers vot all the times rides mules, but if you has to valk on your 
own feet, you don't speak so much about it." The teamster, a 
good-natured fellow, told him to get on one of the mules, and, 
that he might do so, halted his team. Chris accomplished the 
feat of mounting the mule after several efforts, but in doing so 
he happened to touch his royal cussedness with his musket. 
A loud bray and the upward extension of a pair of hind heels 
followed, with a corresponding depression of the mule's forward 
part, and Chris and his musket departed from the mule, and slid 
along on the mud in front of the team. There was an exchange 
of profanity between the teamster and Chris, and the latter went 
limping on his way, a sadder and lamer man. 




THE ARMY MULE. 



BY TOM, OF CO. K. 



For years upon years, very patiently, too, 

I've waited for some one to give me my due. 

The officers, soldiers, the batteries, flags, 

The donkeys of all kinds, the cavalry's nags, 

Have been mentioned with praise. It seems to me crue! 

That none should remember the old army mule. 



Though my voice is no longer so vibrant or strong, 

At the last I am driven to sing my own song. 

For, boys, you remember, as surely you must, 

I brought up your rations through mud and through dust: 



\ 



I raided the hard-tack ; I chewed up the tents ; 
In somebody's ribs made a couple of dents, 
And doubled the fellow who was such a fool 
As to tickle the side of the old army mule. 

I stopped when I chose ; went on when it suited 
Myself; not because I was beaten or booted. 
We gave the bold Southrons a terrible licking ; 
While you did the fighting, 'twas I did the kicking. 

If I share not the honors with you in your pride, 
Why did they put US in plain sight on my side ? 
Ah ! the war days are over; old friends have grown cool 
To the broken-down, pensionless, old army mule. 



As I creep down the tow-path, the old boat behind, 
The days that have vanished come back to my mind 
When forage was plenty; how luscious and sweet 
The juicy, green oats and the young, tender wheat ! 

How often at night when the teams reached their goal, 
And forage was missing, I had but a roll. 
Ah ! life on the tow-path, a tyrant to rule, 
Will soon end the days of the old army mule ! 




— 209 — 

Neither General Griffin nor Colonel Prevost ever made an 
official report of the operations of the regiment or division. 
There are no official utterances in the records of the part taken 
in the engagement by the regiment, or the observations which 
came within its scope, except in General Meade's report of the 
corps, and General Barnes's of the brigade and General Sykes's 
of his division. Official reports necessarily avoid adverse com- 
ment or criticism, and they are all silent on the subject of the 
neglect to improve the opportunity offered for the occupation 
of the important ridge on the 30th, or its subsequent unfor- 
tunate abandonment, after it had been carried by Sykes's hard 
fiehtinsf on the 1st. Most of the contributions to war literature 
from both sides are, however, confirmatory of the impressions 
abroad in the army at the moment, and unhesitatingly pro- 
nounce the act a lamentable blunder. 

Another futile effort had staggered a disappointed country, 
and Chancellorsville was numbered with the other disasters. 
But the Army of the Potomac, with its seventeen thousand one 
hundred and ninety-seven, killed, wounded and missing, its 
buoyancy checked, and its expectations unrealized, was still 
resolute of purpose, confident in strength, and firm in convic- 
tion that it would yet gain the mastery. Neither the army nor 
the people had yet learned that the irresistible Anglo-Saxon 
race, when its representatives were battling against each other, 
could only be subdued when one side or the other should be 
worn into submission. 




CHAPTER VIII. 

AFTER CHANCELLORSVILLE — CAMP AT GOLD FARM, ALDIE, MID- 
DLEBURG, UPPERVILLE, VA. 

IN the course of a week after the collapse at Chancellors- 
ville, by dint of close application, the regiment had slept, 
ate, and brushed itself into something like its normal condition. 

Even Scipio Africanus, whose face had been uneasily solemn 
since the light from the bursting shell shone upon its terror in 
the wilderness, had so far recovered his spirits as to laugh at his 
adventure, and give his own version (not exactly truthful) of it 
to the other servants of the officers, as follows : 

" I was jes standin' wid de offisuz, and bime-by, when nobody 
wuzn't thinkin' nuthin, de reb guns go boom ! boom ! an' de 
shells begin to fizz and screech, and drop roun' us like sparks 
from a skyrocker. Golly ! we a'most think the end uv the 
world am cum fur sartin, an' we dun no which end. Den de 
cap'n ax me would I take a messuj to de rear; an' I starts 
wid de messuj, an' I didn't git but a piece when bang ! der cum 
a shell an' bust right in front o' me ; an' wun dis side, an' wun 
dat. I jes walk back and tell de cap'n dar ain't no rear. An* 
I tell yer. gemmen, de hones' trufe, my hair's a'most straight 
eber sense." 

It was the mellow Virginia spring-time. The giant oaks and 
tapering pines had vanished. The vast forests had yielded to 
the winter's needs. The sturdy axes of the Northmen had 
cleared the acreage the great army covered, and made an arable 
soil read)- for thrifty husbandmen when war should cease. 

The spring-time brought with it no change of garb. There 
were no alterations fixed by fashion for the different seasons. 
The same shaped clothing, of the same texture and in the same 
(210) 






211 

color, was suitable for winter and summer alike. Some of the 
officers affected a little tone by occasionally appearing in top- 
boots and corduroy pants, and neat-fitting jacket — sometimes, 
however, to their discomfiture. 

Dress-parade was in progress on a genial afternoon, and 
General Griffin's presence had stiffened the men to their best 
endeavors. The adjutant was peculiarly happy, his natty 
jacket, well-polished top-boots outside his pants, and his neat- 
fitting corduroys setting off his shape immensely. But it was 
not uniform. He had reached the " Sir, the parade is formed," 
when the general, who had kept his eye upon him alone, could 
remain silent no longer. " No, it is not, sir !" said he, address- 
ing the adjutant, " nor will it be until you return from your 
quarters clothed in the uniform of your rank ; and, recollect, 
sir, with your pants outside of your boots." And then turning 
to the colonel, " I had hoped, sir, this would have received 
attention before I was compelled to notice it. You will bring 
your command to an order and await the adjutant's return." 

The adjutant, meekly submissive, shortly appeared properly 
clothed and the ceremony was concluded. His subsequent 
orders lacked much of the snap with which he opened. 

At other times a disposition to be unduly careless met with 
like reproof. General Griffin, during the hour for company 
drills, riding through the division to observe the regard paid to 
this requirement, happened upon a captain of repute, who wore 
a brown knit jacket instead of an officer's coat. The captain 
continued to manoeuvre his company, with that special care and 
little self-importance always assumed when in the presence of 
superiors. The general interrupted him several times, address- 
ing him as sergeant. The captain resented the application of the 
title and was at some pains to repeatedly announce his rank. 
The general was equally firm in his insistence upon the desig- 
nation he had first used, and ultimately explained he could 
recognize no commissioned officer in such an unsightly garb 
discharging the duties of his office. He ordered the captain to 
repair to his quarters and change his coat, and that meanwhile 



_ 1JO __ 

he would take charge of the company. He drilled it for some 
time and when the captain returned in his uniform, addressing 
him by his title, administering some wholesome advice upon the 
subject of dress, dignity, and use of the insignia of rank, 
directed him to continue the exercises. 

In seasons of idleness the soldier delighted in promulgating 
stories of operations stupendous for their magnitude or ridicu- 
lous from their absurdity. Of the latter were those which 
encouraged the credulous to look for assignment in the vicinity 
of some large northern city, or to garrison duty in the coast 
defences. These the lingo of the day denominated " soft 
snaps. ' 

The source of these rumors, when least likely to be true, or 
so choice in the selection of assignments as to be wholly beyond 
realization, were generally traced to the company cooks, and 
were usually dismissed by the incredulous and thoughtful as 
" cook-house talk." One prevalent about this time, that gained 
some credence because of its continuance, was that the 1 1 8th 
was shortly to be sent to Pennsylvania for duty at the arsenals 
and supply depots. Gradually these stories drifted into forget- 
fulness, but not before severe imprecations were heaped on 
the poor cooks for concocting such baseless fabrications. 

The 25th New York, with others of the earlier regiments 
from that State, were enlisted for two years. The term of 
service was about expiring. According to the computation 
made by the men the time had expired, but by the government 
calculation there was still another month due. This month's 
service it was determined should be exacted. As a result of 
this decision the regiment first became refractory and ultimately 
mutinous. Their officers could neither enforce duty nor exact 
obedience, and threats to forcibly resist all authority resulted 
in the regiment being kept continually under guard. This 
unpleasant duty fell upon the other organizations of the 
brigade, and for the entire month a wing of a regiment always 
had the rebellious regiment in charge. 

They were also kept on short rations. But their guards felt 



— 213 — 

that they were being unjustly treated, and exhibited their 
sympathy by looking another way and patroling in another 
direction, while bags of hard-tack and quantities of pork, 
sugar, coffee, fresh beef, etc., were passed in to the New 
Yorkers by the comrades who had shared the toils, privations, 
and dangers of the war with them. 

There were several instances of ignominious and degrading 
punishment. Ten non-commissioned officers specially named 
in an order from army head-quarters were directed to have 
their chevrons publicly torn from their uniforms. They were 
men well known for their excellent soldierly qualities. The 
disgrace attending such a punishment cut them keenly and 
aroused much sympathy in their behalf. Major Herring, who 
was in command of the guard on whom the disagreeable task 
of executing the order fell, and whose honorable, soldierly 
nature made him feel keen sympathy for these men, interested 
himself for a mitigation, and by a personal appeal to General 
Meade secured a modification of the order by permitting the 
men privately to remove their own marks of rank. 

These stern and severe measures, condemned by the rank 
and file, were of excellent service in preventing a repetition of 
such conduct under like conditions subsequently. The same 
question arose when the term of the three years' troops ended ; 
the men insisting upon an earlier date for their discharge, and 
the government demanding a later one. But the men yielded 
without turbulence. Such violence over the much wider field 
covered by the three years' expirations might have produced 
irreparable disaster. 

Good weather and dry roads affording comfortable locomo- 
tion, there were frequent interchanges of social courtesies. As 
a class, soldiers in the field are of an eminently social turn and 
lose no opportunities to extend or accept hospitalities. 

There was one occasion, about this time, of greater magni- 
tude than others, but typical in a general way of all, whether of 
greater or less dimensions. General Barnes was trusted for his 
abilities, admired for his attainments, and esteemed for the 



— 214 — 

thoughtful care with which he watched the needs of his soldiers. 
It was resolved to make manifest the appreciation of his high 
soldierly qualifications, and the ardent personal regard for him 
as a commanding officer, in something substantial. A general 
officer's sword, sash and belt and horse equipment of superior 
workmanship and costly material, were selected as suitable 
gifts, and it was decided that the occasion of the presentation 
should be made memorable by feast, wine, wit, and song. 

It was a notable assemblage. Officers of rank and distinc- 
tion from everywhere throughout the army were there, and, 
apparently, all the officers of all grades from the 5th Corps. 
The feast, skilfully prepared by Northern caterers, was bounti- 
ful. Salads, meats, ices, sauces were in abundance. The inno- 
cent insinuating " fish-house " punch, the toothsome, appetizing 
bitters, and a preparation of gin, cordials, sugar and lemons, all 
deftly concocted, invitingly floated in cask, tub, and barrel, per- 
suasively suggestive, silent and speechless as they were, of 
immense hilarity and a " lordly load." Reason graced the 
banquet, while with ready tongue and easy phrase the officer 
chosen, because he could do it well, in earnest emphasis told 
of the purpose of the gathering, and gracefully presented the 
gift selected. And then, when the general had fittingly 
responded, and the feast had been properly disposed of, wit 
and humor, song and story triumphantly asserted their mastery. 
They reigned supreme until the beverage was exhausted. And 
with the coming morn the last lingering minstrel sought his 
quarters, singing, " The cock may crow, the day may dawn, but 
.still we'll taste the barley bree." 

Memory recalls to the active participants in such affairs in 
those days another one that bore fitting parallel with this. 
Sedgwick's old division of the 2d Corps was much attached 
to him. As a mark of their appreciation, after he had been 
assigned to the 6th Corps, and while that corps lay at Warren- 
ton, in the summer of '63, he was presented with a splendid 
horse, with trappings in keeping with the character of the 
animal. The ceremony of presentation was accompanied by a 



— 2I 5 — 

feast equal in all respects to that which attended General 
Barnes's. 

A notable incident happened at its conclusion, which, as it 
soon became the common property of the army, justifies its 
introduction here. 

A distinguished brigade commander had quaffed deeply, 
to a stage of seeming generous merriment. Withdrawing, after 
the night had waned into the small hours, to the spot where his 
patient orderly had, presumably through all the weary time, 
watched his horse, his generosity for such a lengthy service 
overcame his dignity, and, lurching forward to mount, he 
steadied himself and, addressing the soldier in maudlin tones, 
said : " By George, Orderly, with all this hilarity abroad, do 
you know, I'd like to take a drink with you, but," then recov- 
ering himself he continued, sternly, " it wouldn't do, sir, it 
wouldn't do, sir. By George, sir, you're an orderly, sir, and 
I am a general, sir; recollect that, sir." From the orderly's 
reply it was quite evident he had found opportunity to refresh. 
Promptly asserting himself, he quickly responded, "By George, 
General, hadn't you better wait till you're asked?" 

It was too much for the general, in his then condition, even 
to administer a reproof. He did not give the story away him- 
self, but the whole occurrence had been overheard, and for 
many a day he was pleasantly twitted with the incident. 

On the 25th of May Colonel Prevost permanently retired. 
His wounds wholly incapacitated him for active service in the 
field, and he was subsequently appointed to a regimental com- 
mand in the invalid corps. His departure was quiet. His 
preference always to avoid display or demonstration was, on 
this occasion, a serious disappointment to his followers, who 
would have preferred, in some appropriate way, to have mani- 
fested their regrets at the separation. Colonel Prevost's high 
culture, superior military attainments and conspicuous gallan- 
try had materially aided in maintaining the excellent standing 
the regiment bore at home and in the field. Though misfor- 
tune so early attended him, and prevented the continued dis- 



— 2l6 

charge of the duties of his office, his strong personal character 
gave a marked prominence to the organization while he retained 
the commission of colonel. The regard for him as a man, and 
respect for and confidence in him as a commanding officer, 
caused the separation to be deeply felt and his loss to be 
greatly regretted. 



$ \ 










Rumor had not 
quieted. There were 
many conceptions and 
frequent suggestions 
of what the enemy 
were about to do; but 
late in May, without 
opportunity to gain 
information, instinct 
seemed to point to 
the conclusion, in the 
language of the boxer, 
that Lee was about 
" to spar for an open- 
ing." Events were 
now rapidly culminating to justify this opinion. 

On the 26th the picket details on the right flank of the army 
were strengthened, and a very unusual number — twelve hundred 
— from the brigade, under Major Herring as the brigade officer, 
were detached for that duty. And then on the 29th the old 
camp was abandoned, this time forever, and the whole right of 



, 



— 217 — 

the army was extended first some twenty miles to Grove Church 
and the next day still farther, to the vicinity of Morrisville, about 
six miles southeast of Bealton, a station on the Orange and 
Alexandria Railroad, and some twelve miles in the same general 
direction from the familiar location of Warrenton Junction. The 
old soldiers, subtle fellows, consoled themselves with such re- 
marks as, " We aint going to attack nothing ; Lee is marching 
around our flank, see if he aint, and we're only watchin' to see 
that he sha'n't." 

Men who had camped in forests and battled in the wilderness, 
who for months knew only of broad dales and open fields by 
journeying through them in rapid march, viewed the beauties 
and verdure of lower Farquier with a higher conception of the 
surroundings than the actual scenery justified. Farquier claimed 
to be famous among the richest of Virginia's counties, and 
" Gold Farm," on the lands of the Liberty Gold Mining Com- 
pany, a few miles from Morrisville, in an open, arable region, 
was a choice location, and the camp was as carefully constructed 
upon it as the ground allotted would permit. A wood, bordered 
with majestic oaks, skirted its edge, and, in front, field and mea- 
dow rolled, boundless, out of view. 

To the north and east, far in the distance, Bull Run mount- 
ains stood, green in early summer foliage, historic reminders of 
their silent sentinel duty, as they watched the fierce struggles 
which bear their name, wax hotly at their base. The pro- 
ductive soil, uncultivated and abandoned, was everywhere 
abundant with the golden field-daisies. Grass and weed and 
wild flower were alone the yield, when in the thrifty times of 
peace, at this most fruitful season, corn and wheat and oats had 
covered all these prolific acres. 

There was an occasional cow browsing by the mansion 
house, but flocks and herds had disappeared, and a vast extent 
of pasturage lay waste and fallow. All the vigorous men had 
gone, and caustic matrons, defiant maidens, watched jealously 
the little garden truck, the single cow, the depleted smoke- 
house, the scant granary, and the attenuated fowls, the meagre 



218 — 

representatives of all their life-sustaining assets. And yet, 
venomous and uncompromising as these women were, they 
could not resist the temptation to barter a part of their scanty 
stoic for the reliable currency of their adversaries. 

The Liberty Gold Mining Company, in prosperous times, had 
made a venture for the mining and reduction of the precious 
metal, said to exist in limited quantities in that locality. A 
stamp mill, in good repair, needing but the application of power, 
and a sufficiency of the gold-bearing quartz rock to put it in 
operation, standing idle and abandoned, was all that remained 
of the enterprise. It was a novel and unexpected find, and the 
curious and ingenious Yankees in the brigade whiled away their 
leisure in carefully inspecting the machinery. Either the war or 
a scarcity of metal had brought the venture to disaster. 

Colonel Gwyn returned from a short leave of absence on the 
3d of June ; Major Herring had been in command. There 
were indications that the inactivity, so acceptable in this at- 
tractive situation, would not long continue. Cannonading, 
heavy and protracted, had been heard in the direction of Fred- 
ericksburg. On the cSth a detachment of infantry, made up of 
details from the 6th corps, under command of General D. A. 
Russell, passed the encampment, marching in the general di- 
rection of the upper Rappahannock. They were ignorant of 
their destination, and although two days out did not yet under- 
stand the purpose of the movement. Among them was a bat- 
talion of the 1 19th Pennsylvania, under Major Truefitt. The 
hurried movement afforded opportunity for exchanging but a 
salutation and a word or so among the many who knew each 
other so well in the two organizations. 

It was learned through them that the cannonading recently 
heard resulted from the crossing of the Rappahannock at 
Franklin's Crossing by Howe's division of the 6th Corps, and 
that one division of the corps held the other side of the river, 
their pickets engaged with the enemy, each division relieving 
the other from the north side every forty-eight hours. 

On the 9th there was firing in another direction, and the 



— 219 — 

distant booming of guns came from the right and front. The 
entire cavalry force of the army — the infantry column was 
intended to join it — had struck the whole of the enemy's 
cavalry in the vicinity of Beverly Ford and Brandy Station. 
The first distinctive cavalry fight of the war, spirited and bril- 
liant, it was a laurel fitted to be woven in the chaplet, with the 
many other splendid achievements of that most efficient arm of 
the service. The brigade was sent to cover the recrossing at 
Kelly's Ford, but the troops had all withdrawn before it 
reached there. 

Important papers, found with Stuart's headquarters baggage, 
captured at Brandy Station, and the information gained in con- 
nection with the operations of the 6th Corps at Franklin's 
Crossing, indicated that the entire army of northern Virginia 
was moving towards the Valley of the Shenandoah ; and on 
the 13th, at eight o'clock in the evening, the Gold Farm Camp 
was broken and the column moved to Morrisville, where, at 
ten o'clock, it bivouacked for the rest of the night. On the 
14th, from eleven o'clock in the morning until seven in the 
evening, the command poked along with halting, tedious 
delays, through Weavertown to Catlett's Station, on the 
Orange and Alexandria Railroad. From thence the following 
day a tiresome continuous march was made, between five in the 
morning and nine in the evening, to Manassas Junction. 

This region had been tramped over, fought over and camped 
upon at intervals for two years by both armies, and yet much 
of the fencing was still standing. It fell, however, before the 
exacting requirements of the 5th Army Corps. A negro, 
occupying a spacious mansion, sought to preserve the fence in 
the immediate vicinity of the brigade, by the doubtful assurance 
that his " marster," who "sot him free" when the"wah" broke 
out, had "done and give him" the fee of all his lands. The 
soldiers were skeptical. They traced the motive, or thought 
they did, for his " marster's " munificence, if the story had any 
foundation, to his conclusion that the vandals would avoid 
spoliation where the negro claimed an ownership. So they 



— 220 — 

laudably agreed to compromise by only burning the rails in 
half, as a fire in the centre would answer their purpose for 
cooking, and permitting the colored recipient of his "marster's" 
bounty to still retain the two ends. The darkey could not 
exactly see what benefit he should derive from this concession, 
but succumbed to the inevitable. 

The bivouac was upon the margin of a stream, the bed of 
which was dry. Upon the banks was a growth of stunted 
timber. There was a scarcity of water and an abundance of 
toads, and if one or more saw fit to abide for a time in the 
limited quantity available for drinking or cooking, the water 
was considered no less desirable. Captain Donegan, with 




BIVOUAC ON BULL RUN BATTLE-FIELD. 

much difficulty, had secured sufficient for a single cup of coffee. 
He had prepared the beverage, and while awaiting its cooling, 
a friendly toad took possession until forced out by the high 
temperature. It in no way destroyed the captain's appetite. 
His only regret was that he lost what the reptile had splashed 
over the sides. 

On the 17th, at six o'clock in the morning, the column 
moved on again over the plains of Manassas, passing the 
Henry House, famous as the spot where the stalwart regular 
division held the victorious enemy until darkness permitted the 
withdrawal of the broken and shattered fragments of Pope's 






221 — 

disordered battalions — famous, too, in both the Bull Run 
battles as a point where the struggle waged the fiercest. Torn 
and shattered by shot and shell, the residence had still an 
occupant. A citizen, sullen and uncommunicative, stood in the 
doorway while the troops passed by. The battle-field was yet 
thickly strewn with leather accoutrements, shoes, canteens, the 
skins of dead animals, and all sorts of abandoned military 
property. Then the route lay by the Warrenton Turnpike, 
over the stone bridge spanning Bull Run, through Centreville, 
and thence to Gum Springs, on the Little River, or Leesburg 
Turnpike, where, at six o'clock, the day's march of twelve 
hours concluded. The march had exhausted some of the 
strongest. The heat was intense, and water scarce. Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Gleason, of the 25th New York, overcome by the 
heat, died from sunstroke, and was buried in the evening in 
the little village church-yard, with suitable military honors. 
The men put leaves in their hats and cut boughs as a protec- 
tion from the fierce rays of the sun. At a little distance, with 
some appeal to the imagination, there was a faint resemblance 
to a moving forest, and the well-known passage in Macbeth 
was recalled, " 'Till Bernam wood do come to Dunsinane," and, 
for the moment, diverted attention from the remorseless burn- 
ing sun, the dry, parched throat, and choking, penetrating 
dust. 

The fatigues had been intensified by the tedious delays 
habitually attending wagon guard-duty, which that day had 
fallen upon the regiment. There was heavy cannonading out 
the turnpike in the direction of the Bull Run Mountains. A 
conviction had grown that Lee's purpose was invasion, but the 
suggestion that Pennsylvania was his ultimate destination was 
scarcely credited. 

The bivouac at Gum Springs continued until two o'clock in 
the afternoon of the 19th, when the march was resumed along 
an excellent turnpike road, terminated at five o'clock at Aldie, 
a post village of Loudon county, lying quaint and picturesque 
in a gap in the Bull Run Mountains. Beyond, towering above 



— 222 

the lesser range, the distant Blue Ridge loomed up majestically. 
A swift-flowing stream, upon the banks of which the little ham- 
let lies, trends northward and bears the waters of the valley 
and the mountain's side to the Potomac. 

Goose Creek, for such is the undignified name it bears, seems 
recently to have been considerately noticed in the river and 
harbor appropriation bill. A fund was set apart to deepen its 
waters and remove its shoals. The old Potomac soldier would 
stand aghast at the likelihood of successfully navigating such a 
stream. One of the command, who looked like a truthful man, 
said that in the course of a two hours' march, in nearly a 
straight line, he had crossed the creek seventeen times. 

The turnpike forked at the village, one branch crossing the 
Blue Ridge at Ashby's Gap to the southwestward, and the 
other at Snicker's to the northwestward. The Ashby Gap 
branch passes through Middleburg, Upperville and Paris, and 
the Snicker's Gap branch through Leesburg. 

There were evidences of hard cavalry fighting all around the 
town. It was the point whence had come the sounds of artil- 
lery heard on the arrival at Gum Springs. The cavalry had 
had a severe tussle, and the engagement at Aldie was already 
known as a well-fought fight. Our cavalry were pressing for 
the gaps in the Blue Ridge for opportunity for observation of 
the Shenandoah Valley beyond, where the bulk of the rebel 
infantry was believed to be in motion ; and Stuart was contend- 
ing vigorously to prevent it. Wounded men lay upon litters 
of straw near the roadside and in the yards of the houses. 
Dead horses were scattered about, and lost and abandoned 
arms and trappings were numerous. 

The band and scattered remnants of Colonel Duffle's ist 
Rhode Island Regiment were in the town. A sergeant who 
had been badly sabred was taken prisoner and afterwards 
escaped. He graphically described the gallant fight made by 
his regiment. The regiment had been sent for observation 
from Centreville, through Thoroughfare Gap, with instructions 
to keep on to Middleburg. Stuart meanwhile advancing east- 



wardly from Ashby's Gap, with intent to secure the gaps at 
Aldie, struck Gregg, with whom he became actively engaged. 

Duffie drove a rebel brigade from Thoroughfare Gap, and, 
following out his instructions, to keep on to Middleburg, ap- 
proached the place towards Stuart's rear, and so disconcerted him 
that Stuart, believing he was about to be cut off by a formid- 
able force, hurriedly withdrew to Rector's Cross Roads to con- 
centrate against Duffie. Subsequently the several rebel brig- 
ades, recovering from their discomfiture, advanced on Middle- 
burg from different directions. Duffie had posted his troopers 
so skilfully, taking advantage of barricades and stone fences, 
that he was enabled to repel several assaults ; but attacked by 
overwhelming numbers, he finally retreated by the road on 
which he had advanced, with the loss of some two-thirds of his 
command. So eminently successful was Duffle's resistance, so 
skilfully had he posted his line, that Stuart officially mentioned, 
subsequently, how manfully so light a force had combated him 
in all his strength for such a length of time. These operations 
were a severe blow to the enemy. He lost the pass at Aldie ; 
Hooker had possession of Loudon county, and the marching 
column was thrown far to the westward. 

The brigade remained at Aldie on the 20th and until two 
o'clock on the morning of the 21st. The cavalry meantime 
had been manoeuvring and reconnoitring preparatory to an- 
other effort at Ashby's Gap. By break of day the infantry 
column was well on towards Middleburg, and by daylight, with 
Gregg's brigade of cavalry in advance and Vincent's 3d brigade 
on their left, it had entered the town. 

Beyond the town the country is open for a distance, then 
there is a wood, and beyond it again rises a hill of considerable 
elevation, the white turnpike winding up its slope. The plains, 
the woods and the hill had been the scene of a severe cavalry 
fight a few days before. The struggle was for the eminence, 
the charges against which the enemy appeared to have suc- 
cessfully resisted. Their artillery, well served from the crest, 
seemed, from the character of wounds on the bodies of the 



— 224 — 

dead animals which lay around in large numbers, to have done 
the principal work. In one instance a twelve-pound solid shot, 
entering the breast, had gone entirely through the body and 
passed out at the tail. The roadway and fields were thickly- 
strewn with the bodies of the horses killed in the action, and in 
the yard of a house, from around which the fences had been 
removed, there were eighteen. As their trappings indicated, 
they were of both sides ; it was evident they had met there in a 
charge. This action bears the name of the " engagement at 
Middleburg," and it, together with Duffie's valorous resistance, 
has made the town famous in the history of the Gettysburg 
campaign. 

Middleburg was a village of some six hundred inhabitants, 
with two churches and a few stores, in the midst of a well-tilled, 
productive region. Its men, thrifty and industrious, with all 
the prosperous plenty of their surroundings, had lost taste for 
peaceful callings and were away to do battle with the rest of 
Virginia's disloyal manhood for the disruption of their common 
country. 

About eight o'clock the brigade pushed through Middleburg 
and deployed. The 1 18th held the right, and the line extended 
to high ground overlooking the position Stuart had selected to 
await attack. The extent of his front was plainly observable. 
The Union right was well beyond his left. That the infantry 
on the right might be concealed, the pieces were ordered at 
the trail. It did not seem to be effectively done, for apparently, 
discovering their presence and feeling the pressure of the dis- 
positions made by Vincent's brigade on the left, the enemy 
started to withdraw. Of this the cavalry took prompt advan- 
tage, and with skirmishers, and the whole line at a trot ad- 
vanced handsomely. It was but momentary, before the lines 
impinged, and the infantry had the rare opportunity of a full 
view of a cavalry charge. The two lines intermingled in ap- 
parent inextricable confusion. Sabres flashed, men yelled, 
horses reared. There was cutting, slashing, cheering ; rider- 
less horses dashed madly to the rear, or, lost and perplexed, 



225 

ran aimlessly up and down the line. For an instant it seemed 
the onslaught would be repulsed, but one by one the enemy 
unwound themselves from the writhing mass and found safety 
in flight. Stuart was badly worsted, and some of his horse 
artillery, the gunners sabred at their pieces, were a trophy of 
the fight. 

The disorganized squadrons were speedily assembled, and 
the movement continued towards Upperville, the cavalry 
leading. 

A batch of some fifty prisoners, fine, sturdy fellows, passed by 
the column. They were rather a communicative set, and loud 
in their commendations of the fighting and riding of our cav- 
alry, one shouting vociferously, " You'ns will soon be as good 
as we'ns." The enemy would occasionally halt on a command- 
ing position, but retire before deployment was perfected, pre- 
serving his lines creditably in spite of the hammering of the 
Union guns. 

The country is a succession of ridge and valley, of field, 
meadow and wood. The houses, substantial and spacious, 
indicated intelligent farming and industrious thrift. A promi- 
nent feature of the landscape, as viewed from the ridges, were 
the stone fences. They intersected each other in every direc- 
tion and at all angles. There were none of any other material, 
and the field patch-work of green, divided by such distinctive 
lines, was marked and picturesque. They were utilized, at 
times, to obstruct the advance. But there was no material 
obstruction. The march was a succession of halts and ad- 
vances, ployments and deployments. The purpose of the 
enemy was, seemingly, to force the delays incident to the 
changes from column to line and line- to column. 

It is about nine miles from Middleburg to Upperville, and 
there the enemy made a more determined resistance. Upper- 
ville is directly at the base of the mountains at the entrance to 
the gap. Both bodies entered the town together. The contest 
was close, the fight vigorous. Pistol-shot and sabre-stroke were 
indiscriminately used, and the angered combatants jammed 
15 



— 226 — 

and choked the roadway. From the cover of fences and 
dwellings dismounted cavalry greatly annoyed the charging 
column, but it pressed the enemy successfully through the vil- 
lage and into the gap, up the defiles, thence towards the sum- 
mit, where they rallied at the little hamlet of Paris. There the 
enemy's infantry appeared in the shape of a portion of Long- 
street's corps, and Stuart taking refuge behind it, the affair at 
Upperville terminated. 

So determined and valorous were the Union cavalry during 
the conflict, that many who had received sabre-wounds on the 
face and arms rode to the moving hospital in the rear to have 
their wounds dressed, and then returned to the front in hot 
haste to take further part in the battle. The brigade, which 
had been moved into the village at the double-quick in the 
height of the fight, bivouacked there for the night. 

Of these cavalry charges General Vincent, who a few days 
later fell at Little Round Top, while gallantly protecting it 
against overwhelming odds, officially speaks in his report of 
the operations of his brigade : " The charges of cavalry, a sight 
I had never before witnessed, were truly inspiring, and the 
triumphant strains of the bands, as squadron after squadron 
pushed the enemy in his flight up the hills towards the gap, 
gave us a feeling of regret that we too were not mounted and 
could not join in the charge." 

The evening, a pleasant one, was not permitted to pass with- 
out cultivating social relations with the cavalry, and extending 
congratulations upon their brilliant achievements at Aldie, 
Middlcburg and Upperville. The most prominent guest was 
Colonel Taylor, of the 1st Pennsylvania, among the most dis- 
tinguished of Pennsylvania cavalry soldiers; and his regiment, 
originally the lamented Bayard's, was among those famous for 
daring through all the years of the war. 

There was but a limited opportunity, in the absence of trains, 
to extend very bountiful hospitality, and scarce any to satisfy 
the hunger of which the cavalry officers most complained. 
Fortunately appliances and material were at hand to concoct 






227 — 

the " Hooker's Retreat," a beverage that had gained an immense 
celebrity since the battle of Chancellorsville. The formula of 
simple ingredients was well known to Crocker, Thomas and 
Donaldson. They so skilfully and frequently adjusted its 
combinations that the ravenous appetites were stayed, hunger 
disappeared in hilarity, and the entertainment closed harmoni- 
ously as the midnight hour was fast approaching. The colonel, 
who had complained at the beginning that he had not been so 
hungry for "eleventeen hundred" years, generously remarked 
as he withdrew, he had never, in his lifetime, so hugely relished 
such a nourishing meal. 

Upperville, at the base of the mountains and entrance to the 
gap, is a smart little Vir- 
ginia village. The crops 
had been neglected and 
the advancing season gave 
no indication of the sum- 
mer harvests. The popu- 
lation, some two or three 
hundred, was considerably 
depleted. Its strong men, 
familiar with all the roads 
and mountain passes, were 

doubtless the sinews of the partisan warfare so judiciously and 
successfully waged in this and the neighboring localities. 

At three o'clock on the morning of the 22d the infantry 
column commenced its return movement by the turnpike, in the 
direction of Middleburg and Aldie. The cavalry closely fol- 
lowed and the enemy were not far behind. Occasionally the 
proximity was annoying, and our cavalry massed to resist their 
charge. Then followed a halt and no further demonstration. 
The masses deployed again, but were compelled to frequently 
repeat the same manceuvrings by the enemy's repetitions of his 
hesitating tactics. Approaching Middleburg there was unmis- 
takable evidence of massing for a determined effort, when our 
columns were opened, the roadway cleared, and a battery 
speedily unlimbered. With a little excellent practice the pur- 




228 — 



suing force rapidly disappeared. Except a few occasional shots 
at long range, the march progressed to Aldie without further 
incident. There at five o'clock the brigade went into bivouac 
on the right of the road, opposite Sykes's division of regu- 
lars. As there seemed a prospect for more than a night's 
delay, shelter-tents were brought into requisition, and a com- 
fortable camp established. 

The regulars were an orderly, proper set. They went about 

their business in a 
methodical, mechan- 
ical way, preserving 
a painful silence. 
Their habits were 
strange, contrasted 
with the volunteers, 
whose lusty shouts 
when they " broke 
ranks " never failed to 
exhibit anger or mer- 
riment as the day's 
tramp had pleased 
or incommoded. 

Mosby had not 
been idle. This re- 
gion was his " happy 
huntin g-ground," 
and the 5th and other 
Corps trains had suffered somewhat from his forays. For- 
tunately the wagons of the division escaped entirely. From 
the limited supply of clothing they contained an issue was 
made, fractional as compared with the needs which, with the 
heavy work already done and the still heavier likely to follow, 
were increasing daily. 

These were the dark days of the Union, darker than any 
since Valley Forge. What followed lifted the gloom and 
relieved the depression that had well nigh strangled the manly 
efforts of a loyal people. 




ALBERT HAVERSTICK. 



CHAPTER IX. 

GETTYSBURG. 

LEE'S design was manifest. The forcing of his cavalry- 
westward may have interrupted, but did not alter his 
purpose. A Northern invasion, skilfully planned, had been 
consummated, and the famed historic Potomac had ceased to 
be the border which controlled the strife. Lee's legions had 
put the Potomac river behind them, and the unsuspecting 
farmers of Maryland and Pennsylvania were startled in the 
very early summer time by the advance of his mighty army. 
An anxious, patriotic people again contributed freely of their 
stalwart sons to do battle for their hearthstones. The archives 
of Pennsylvania's capital were gathered for removal. Levies 
had been made by the Confederates upon her towns, which the 
burgesses had commuted in the bonds and papers of their 
burghers. Formidable barricades guarded the approaches 
to her metropolis, and the burning bridges on the Susquehanna 
marked the celerity of the advance. Anxiety grew to fear; 
confidence was shaken, confusion rife, disorder rampant. 
Every one looked longingly for the coming of the old Potomac 
army, in which were their strength and their hope. Unjustly 
maligned, unfairly traduced, it cherished no bitterness, harbored 
no resentments. It had not mistaken its responsibilities nor 
forgotten its obligations. Heedless of exhaustion, regardless 
of fatigue, keeping pace with its adversaries, it was bowling 
along at thundering gait to force the issue in the wager of 
battle. As its whereabouts became known fears subsided, dis- 
order ceased. The loyal North, although confident and reliant, 
stood aghast in awful pause, anxiously awaiting the impending 
conflict. The army, with no knowledge of these anxieties, with 

(229) 



— 230 — 

no fear of consequences, tractable, obedient, enthusiastic, was 
assured of its strength, confident of its ability. It trudged along 
complacently to again measure swords with its old adversary. 
This time not through the swamp, forest, wilderness and bog 
of the enemy's less favored clime, but through the open fields, 
over the broad dales, and down the gently-rolling valleys of its 
own native heath. 

Four days sufficed for whatever necessitated the stoppage at 
Aldie, and the march begun which culminated in battle on the 
distant field of Gettysburg. On the 26th, in a drizzling rain, 
by the broad turnpike road through Leesburg, the column 
moved to Edwards' Ferry, near the mouth of the now famous 
Goose Creek, and there crossed the Potomac. 

It would have been impossible for the regiment to have a 
dress-parade upon this march. Wardrobes among the soldiers 
were so scanty that the clothing which was not upon their 
backs could easily have been disposed of in a pantaloon's 
pocket. The extra garments usually consisted of a pair of 
socks. Dress-coats did not average one to a dozen men. 

As the government did not furnish perambulating laundries 
for the convenience of the enlisted men, each man was forced 
to do his own washing. When the army halted near a suitable 
stream, the men disrobed and each washed his only shirt. 
When the march was resumed the dilapidated and tattered 
remnants of more prosperous days were tied to the bayonets, 
and flapped in the wind as the army moved on. An army with 
banners truly ; not beautiful, but picturesque. 

Leesburg and the ferry, so near ill-fated Ball's Bluff, revived 
memories of that disastrous fray and sad recollections of its 
consequences. They gave way before the buoyancy and relief 
that was always felt by the old Potomac soldier when he left 
war-blasted, inhospitable Virginia behind him and trod again 
the fair fields of Maryland. The long June days and brief sum- 
mer nights made short bivouacs. 

The Monocacy was forded below Frederick City. The water 
was waist-deep. Just before the city was reached the men 



— 231 — 

came to a remarkable spring. It gushed from a horizontal 
cleft in a rock about three feet from the ground, and in a stream 
fully a foot broad, with such force that a tin-kettle not held 
firmly in the hand would be dashed several feet away. The 
water was icy cold, and the tired, hot, thirsty soldiers eagerly 
and gladly availed themselves of the refreshment it offered. 

For both days all there was of daylight and part of the night 
had been allotted, with but few irregular and short intervals for 
rest, to the march. 

" Old Four Eyes," such was the happy synonym for Meade, 
when he was too distant to observe and too far off to hear, was 
much berated ; and the officers who led the column, in shock- 
ing epithet and vulgar phrase, were repeatedly consigned to the 
cruel fate of being shot to death by musketry for their incon- 
siderate disregard of comforts and conveniences. All hard 
usage was forgotten, all harsh epithets were changed to com- 
mendations, when it was learned that, by this severe measure, 
General Meade had successfully interposed his corps between 
Stuart and the main Confederate army, and, as it subsequently 
appeared, this deprived Lee of the valuable services of that in- 
defatigable chieftain with his cavalry at Gettysburg. 

It was a fitting closing triumph of Meade's career as a corps 
commander. On the 28th, in recognition of his abilities, his 
energy, his courage and his patriotism, he was selected to suc- 
ceed Hooker in command of the Army of the Potomac, who, 
at his own request, had been relieved. General Sykes, an 
officer of splendid reputation, high soldierly attainments and 
superior military education, by virtue of his seniority, became 
General Meade's successor. There were some mild comments 
among the rank and file, in homely phrase, as to the propriety 
of "swapping horses in crossing a stream," but it had no ma- 
terial effect on the morale or temper of the army. The sol- 
diers were occasionally demonstrative when attempts were 
made to arouse enthusiasm, but matters were generally viewed 
more stolidly than in the earlier days of the war. 

Frederick City had seen a good deal of soldiers, and the sol- 



— 232 — 

diers knew much of it. There is always temptation " to do a 
village " when in close vicinity. In spite of stringent orders, 
many of the men eluded the efforts put forth for their enforce- 
ment, made merry with the townsfolk, ate at hotel tables and 
drank at hotel bars, on the day and evening of the 27th, during 
all of which time the halt continued near the town. 

On Monday, the 29th, the " general " sounded about eight 
o'clock, and by eleven the column was in full swing through 
Frederick. It was quite a parade occasion. The citizens lined 
the sidewalks and crowded the windows. The reception was 
generous and the people demonstrative. There was neither 
hesitation nor stint in a very general expression of hope that, 
in the approaching conflict, success might attend the Union 
arms. At two o'clock, the general direction of the march being 
a little east of north, the column passed through Mount Pleas- 
ant, and at seven o'clock bivouacked beyond and near Liberty, 
still in Frederick county. The march, though not lengthy, 
was a hard one and stragglers were numerous, but the evening 
roll-call brought a full response. 

The troops were in a section wholly unacquainted with great 
bodies of armed men. Thickly peopled, highly cultivated, 
alternating between wood, meadow and field, it rolled in easy 
undulations, and from its gently rising knolls one scene of rich 
grandeur appeared as the other faded from view. The grasses 
had been garnered ; vast fields of golden grain were ripening ; 
oats and corn were advancing. The rich green and golden 
yellow were beauties of landscape and evidence of thrift, strik- 
ing in their contrast with the wasted fields, bared woodlands 
and fenceless farms of exhausted, battle-scarred Virginia. Over 
the succulent meadows and on the green sloping hillsides 
flocks and herds revelled in fattening pasturage. Poultry was 
plentiful, milk, butter and eggs abundant. The country store 
bartered its wares and the roadside inn supplied its guests. 
The miller had grists to grind, the blacksmith his horses to 
shoe, the wheelwright his wagons to build. Peace, plenty, 
thrift, prosperity everywhere abounded. The men feasted in 



— 233 — 

the luxuries of this region of abundance. Men, maidens, ma- 
trons and children gazed in wonderment as the column hurried 
through their villages, and gathered around the bivouacs eager 
listeners to the soldiers' stories of war. As the names of their 
towns, Liberty and Union, indicated, the citizens of Frederick 
and Carroll county were a loyal people, and the sturdy farmers 
bade the soldiers be of good cheer and tarry not until their 
lands were freed from the ruthless invader. 

On the 30th it rained. By break of day the bivouac was 
astir and at four o'clock the column had lengthened for its all 
day march. The brigade had the advance. The direction was 
still about north by east. By eight o'clock Unionville, some 
twelve miles from Liberty, was passed and then Union at ten. 
There were few intervals for rest. At Union Mills, with up- 
wards of twenty miles accomplished, the command, at six 
o'clock, halted for the night. It was the turn of the 118th for 
picket, and its march continued some distance farther. Union 
Mills is in Carroll county, seventeen miles from the Pennsyl- 
vania line. 

The 1st of July was bright and bracing. Bivouac was broken 
at ten o'clock and the march conducted under the most strin- 
gent, exacting orders, probably, ever published during the war. 
Under no pretext whatever should a man be permitted to leave 
the column. Disobedience of this order, any attempt to 
straggle, would be followed by instant death. Officers were 
instructed to march in rear of their companies and rigidly en- 
force the execution of the order. Although the emergency 
was urgent, such a cruel and unusual measure was scarcely 
justifiable. As soon as the men understood the situation, they 
needed no stimulant to untiring exertion, nor any threat of 
punishment, but put forth every energy they possessed. The 
disagreeable duty of rear-guard to the brigade fell upon details 
from the regiment, and Captain Donaldson was assigned to its 
command. His instructions were to rigorously enforce the 
order and execute its penalties. Any failure on his part to dis- 
charge the painful duty would be followed by arrest and court 



— 234 — 

martial. All men found skulking by the roadside, regardless 
■of their organization, were to be forced into the brigade ranks. 
Drivers of pack-horses, cooks, servants and other non-combat- 
ants were to be seized, placed in the ranks and made to do duty 
as soldiers. The captures from this class were meagre. An 
intimation of the instructions must have reached them and they 
found safety in concealment or flight. One poor fellow, in 
charge of a head-quarter pack-horse, as not so fortunate. He 
was a poor, weak-minded creature, utterly unfitted for a fight 
and suitable only for such employment as his detail required. 
His horse was turned over to a contraband; he was furnished 
with gun and accoutrements and a place in the ranks given 
him. The fates were against the regimental barber ; he was 
picked up and for once had an opportunity to join his fellows 
in a little active duty. An Irishman in a New York regiment 
held back so vigorously despite all efforts to urge him forward 
that it was about time to use the pistol. He seemed to be a 
good man, either stubborn or overcome by fatigue, not intend- 
ing to avoid battle, and of that class which usually find their 
regiment at night. As a further effort, two men with levelled 
bayonets were placed behind him with instructions to run him 
through if he did not move on. General Sykes and his staff 
appeared when all known means had been applied, and for 
some time watched their repetition. Apparently satisfied that 
the guard had about exhausted all conservative remedies, and 
that the fellow was likely to be shot, the general turned to the 
officer and in a loud, commanding tone said : " Go ahead, cap- 
tain, and leave this man to me ; I'll get him along." With that 
he struck the fellow several smart blows with his riding-whip 
and ordered him to " double-quick." Without stirring a foot 
and apparently not heeding the whip, the headstrong, good- 
natured fellow, for with all his stubbornness he had a fund of 
good-natured humor in him, turning his head to one side and 
looking the general full in the face, said, apparently in all sin- 
cerity, neither discomfited nor annoyed : " I say, gineral, 'ave 
ye any tobacky about ye ? " It was too much for everybody ; 



— -03 — 

roars of laughter followed, and the general, heartily joining in 
it, rode rapidly away, remarking as he did so : " Captain, let 
that man go; I'll be responsible for him." 

Rousing cheers, demonstrative shouts, ringing enthusiasm 
greeted the good old Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. The 
unfurling of colors and rolling of drums at one o'clock in the 
afternoon indicated the crossing of the line. There was a firmer 
step, better closed ranks, more determined countenances. Be- 
yond there had been some cavalry fighting. The fences were 
down and the bodies of dead horses scattered about; those 
branded C. S. A. the more numerous. Rumors were rife of 
the close presence of the enemy, and stories of a battle to be 
momentarily expected. Information, none of it of value, was 
eagerly seized and distributed with frightful exaggeration. 

The broad, level acres of York, in Pennsylvania, took the 
place of the rolling lands of Carroll in Maryland. The rich 
soil, too productive to permit the timber to stand, was almost 
entirely cleared of the forests, and patches of woodland were 
rare. The great red barns, cosey spring-houses, and large, 
roomy stone mansions were indicative of the successful results 
of good, substantial tillage. 

Hanover, a town of considerable size and of flourishing busi- 
ness, was intended as the destination of the day's march. Its 
railway depot, extensive warehouses, large stores, substantial 
dwellings, were the evidence of its enterprise, thrift and com- 
fort. One of the oldest settlements in southern Pennsylvania, 
it had long been a centre for the gathering and distribution of 
the prolific yield of the surrounding country. Its broad streets 
were the terminals of excellent turnpike roads leading to all 
neighboring important towns. Its main railway outlet, with 
branches from Gettysburg and Littlestown, was by the North- 
ern Central to Baltimore and Harrisburg, its own branch tap- 
ping that line at Hanover Junction. Here, on the outskirts, 
the column halted at four o'clock in the afternoon, with some- 
thing of a conviction that it was for an all night's rest. Imme- 
diately, in wonder and astonishment at this sudden visitation 



— 236 — 

by such a mass of men, apparently all the people from far and 
near gathered for a more familiar acquaintance with their un- 
invited guests — as one of them not inaptly expressed it, for a 
more intimate association " with these travel-stained, dusty, 
walking arsenals, licensed to do murder at their chieftain's 
bidding." They were deferential, respectful to the rifle and 
bayonet, and at first cautious and hesitating about a near ap- 
proach to them. But upon being assured that the arms were 
not dangerous unless used to do harm, they became interested 
in their mechanism and evinced some degree of boldness. But 
the most attractive feature was the fair ladies of the vicinage. 
Their tastes ran wholly to culinary affairs, and they were de- 
lighted by the explanations and ocular demonstrations, as some 
of them styled it, of the primitive, original and uncouth way in 
which the soldier prepared his limited diet. The most fascinat- 
ing and agreeable among the officers were at pains to convince 
them of the excellent social, intellectual and moral standing of 
the officers and men of the regiment. As ragged and dirty a 
specimen of a soldier as happened in view was pointed out as 
the son of the Rev. Dr. Henry Boardman, Philadelphia's most 
distinguished Presbyterian divine, and it was suggested if he 
was of such excellent stock, it might be well imagined how 
high the better appearing ranked in the social scale. This 
twitting pleasantry was apparently accepted as verity, and as 
the citizens seemed reluctant to leave, it was assumed they were 
agreeably entertained as well as instructed.* 

The conviction that the stoppage was for the night was 
erroneous. It had been a busy day at Gettysburg, some 
eighteen miles away. General Reynolds had been killed and 
the 1st and 1 ith Corps, after excellent fighting, had been badly 
worsted by the more rapid concentration of the enemy. All 

* A member of the 1st Michigan, writing respecting this march, says : " The 
night march from Hanover, with women and children handing food and water 
to our veterans, is another picture never to be forgotten by us; and when they 
said : ' Don't let them come any further, boys,' the response, ' We will not, we 
will not,' came from our Michigan men with a meaning which they exemplified 
in their next day's fighting." 



— 237 — 

the army was ordered there with the greatest speed human en- 
durance could sustain. The great battle had opened, upon the 
determination of which hung the success or failure of the in- 
vasion. So at nine o'clock, guided by the shimmer of a brilliant 
moon, the column headed toward the then quaint old-fashioned 
borough, now the famous historic battle town of Gettysburg. 

As the army moved forward the bands and regimental drum 
corps played through the streets of every town through which 
the corps passed to keep the men awake. As it neared a point 
of concentration, moving through batteries on one side and 
infantry battalions on the other, a staff officer approached the 
colonel, and drawing a paper from his pocket, with the aid of a 
lantern which he carried, read from it to the effect that Mc- 
Clellan had been restored to the command of the army and 
would have charge in the next day's battle. This information 
was evidently intended for publication, but before it was formally 
announced, the reading having been overheard, the news passed 
from one to another, until it became known to all the troops in 
the vicinity. The effect was electric and the result astonishing. 
So long a time had elapsed since the removal of McClellan it 
had ceased to be a subject of comment, and the old-time enthu- 
siasm for him it was believed had disappeared forever. The 
announcement was received with shout and yell and cheer, and 
as they echoed and re-echoed from battery to battalion and 
battalion back to battery again, the woods and fields were re- 
sonant with the enthusiastic demonstration. It all passed 
away as suddenly as it came, and was soon lost and forgotten 
in the startling and thrilling incidents soon to follow. 

At 3.30 on the morning of the 2d the column halted in a 
piece of timber by the roadside for a rest in the little darkness 
left before the dawn of a day to close big with the fate of the 
nation. There was little comprehension of the situation be- 
yond the fact that a great battle was likely to be fought, but it 
was not viewed as in any way different from the many other 
hot and bloody contests through which the army had already 
passed. There was no realization of the portentous result of 



— 2 3 8 — 

the issue, nor was it remotely conceived that history would re- 
cord it as the decisive battle of the war. The halt was made 
some miles southeast of the town of Gettysburg, the distance 
marched since the early morning of the ist having been about 
thirty-seven miles. The spot could not have been a great dis- 
tance from the woods that skirt the base of the now memorable 
Culp and Wolf's Hill, then the extreme right of the fish-hook 
shaped Union lines. At daylight within view was a prominent 
heavily-wooded knoll, evidently the now well-known Wolf's 
Hill. The clear, red sunrise indicated intense heat, and as the day 
advanced the indications were verified. It bore down with swelter- 
ing, withering effect, until its discomfitures were forgotten later 
amid the thunder of guns and the intense activity of the conflict. 

At daylight, or shortly after, the column was on the march, 
and emerging from the timber where the morning halt had 
been the division was deployed in line of masses, the battalions 
doubled on the centre, and the brigades arranged from right to 
left in their numerical order — Tilton's, Sweitzer's and Vincent's. 
In the 1st Brigade the 1 1 8th had the right, then followed the 
ist Michigan, and then the 22d Massachusetts. The 1 8th 
Massachusetts was temporarily detached for special service 
early in the morning and did not rejoin the command until the 
afternoon. The divisions were arranged in the corps, with 
Barnes on the right, Ayres in the centre, and Crawford on the 
left. The movement was conducted with precision and distances 
established with accuracy. Except for the proximity of a 
battle-field, it gave every evidence of preparation for a grand 
review. The ground was specially adapted for such a cere- 
mony with so large a body of troops, being so level that, when 
the deployments of the masses were completed, the mounted 
officers had the entire corps in view. 

The alignment perfected, with colors unfurled and pieces at 
a right shoulder, the masses advanced, preserving their align- 
ments and distances with all the force, effect and impressiveness 
attending a display occasion. The fences were removed and 
grass, grain, bush and weed were crushed by the heavy tramp 



— 239 — 

of the solid advance. Pennyroyal was prolific and the air was 
permeated with its odors. Silence prevailed, interrupted only 
by an occasional caution to " recollect the guide " and observe 
the direction. Rising a knoll a short distance beyond where the 
formation was effected, wooded crests and promontories stood 
out boldly ; beyond were the sounds of musketry. These now 
historic grounds had the neighborhood designation of Culp's,. 
Wolf's, MacAllister's and Power's Hill. Nearing the base of 
the hills the corps may be said to have arrived at Gettysburg. 
The hour is differently reported, by some at seven and others 
at eight o'clock in the morning, the time between daylight and 
the arrival having been occupied by the formation and the ad- 
vance. Here the direction was changed by the right flank, and 
the first intended purpose of the 5th Corps to extend the right 
of the line of the army was virtually accomplished. The masses 
were deployed into lines, and shortly after, it being thought the 
lines of the army were too extended, the brigades were formed 
by battalion columns and direction changed twice by the left flank. 

After moving a considerable distance in the last of the new 
directions, the division crossed Rock Creek near the Baltimore 
and Gettysburg turnpike, and massed there in the vicinity of an 
orchard, the corps being for the time held as the reserve of the 
army, where as such it lay within easy reach of the 12th Corps. 
The original relative position of the several brigades in the 
division, and of the regiments of the 1st Brigade, was retained. 
These manceuvrings and changes from the arrival until crossing 
Rock Creek occupied the time until after midday. There were 
then several hours of ease. There was an intermittent, bicker- 
ing sort of musketry fire continually going on, with an occa- 
sional discharge of a piece of artillery. It was ominous of 
preparation, indicative of assault. 

The tempting opportunity for a bath in the creek could not 
be resisted, and a few seized it in the interval of rest as a re- 
freshing relief from the fatigues of the incessant marching. Some 
dropped into peaceful slumber, oblivious of the coming storm. 

Toward three o'clock, on the left, in front of a rocky ridge 



— 240 — 

terminating in a round knobbed, timbered mountain, the mus- 
ketry increased to a roar and the guns thundered with the 
energy of determination. Shells, shot wild of their intended 
destination, passed over the closely crowded reserve and ex- 
ploded harmlessly far beyond. The 3d Corps, fighting in a 
death grip, was crumbling, front and flank, before Longstreet's 
assaulting hosts. The rest was broken ; the sleepers were 
awakened. " Fall in," " attention," " load at will, load," harsh, 
stern, determined, in quick succession, obeyed with alacrity, 
brought a realizing sense of the immediate responsibilities. 
The columns stood in earnest readiness, sternly awaiting the 
moment of contact with that twinge and tingle of anxiety, in- 
definite, indescribable, invariably attendant on the command to 
load. The first instructions to detach a brigade from the 5th 
to the support of the 3d Corps were countermanded. The 
whole of the 5th was then ordered to the threatened position, 
and the imperilled left thus fell sacredly to its keeping. To 
repeated applications from General Sickles for assistance while 
the 5th Corps was approaching the field, General Sykes re- 
plied : " It is impossible for me to give it ; the key of the battle- 
field is entrusted to my keeping, and I cannot and will not 
jeopardize it by a division of my forces. " 

At 3.30 the division moved by the left flank to the south- 
eastward in the direction of the heavy fighting. The brigades 
reversed numerically, brought Vincent on the lead, with 
Sweitzer following and Tilton to the rear. By this change 
Tilton's brigade lost the opportunity for the high distinction 
won by Vincent's in its magnificent repulse of the assaults 
on Little Round Top. General Warren, who had discovered 
its vital importance, neglected or abandoned as it was, just as 
the head of the division column was nearing it, seized the 
troops closest at hand to hold the rocky eminence. As Vin- 
cent's brigade led, it was thrown hurriedly to the crest. If the 
movement had been by the right, Tilton's brigade would have 
been assigned this important duty. Upon the 22d Massachu- 
setts, its left regiment, would have devolved the trying respon- 



— 241 — 

sibility, so valiantly discharged by Chamberlain's 20th Maine, 
of repelling the overwhelming odds hurled against them and 
of maintaining alone the extreme left of the defensive line of 
the Union army, and of eventually driving the enemy from the 
face of Big Round Top. 

The march was by roadway, timber skirting the flanks most 
of the distance. The battle was raging fearfully. The wicked 
screech and angry whistle of shot and shell were persistent and 
continuous. The enemy's batteries were served with unusual 
determination and unwonted vigor. The noise, confusion, 
bustle and excitement of the rear were more than usually in- 
tensified. Ammunition wagons, parked close together, ambu- 
lances, jamming and jostling each other, were imperilled and 
threatened by the bursting bombs and ricocheting shots. The 
harrowing sights of shocking wounds and bandaged limbs, as 
borne on stretcher, carried in ambulance, or limping in pain, 
men sought a place of safety, thickened as the column neared 
the scene of action. The demoralizing rumors of irretrievable 
disaster grew to shameful proportions, as the fears of skulkers 
and malingerers magnified the enemy's onslaught. A splendid 
black charger, too valuable for such exposure, said to have 
been the horse of Captain John Fassit, of the 23d Pennsylvania, 
an aide on General Birney's staff, had his right foot torn off as 
he was being led along the flank of the column. 

The rocky eminences, Big and Little Round Top, com- 
manded almost an entire view of the plateau held by our army. 
Rising a ridge near them, the column passed over it, down its 
rocky, wooded sides, into a gorge filled with huge stones and 
massive boulders, towards the enemy. It was now in the midst 
of the active combat. Shot, shell and musketry raged terrifi- 
cally. The familiar piercing rebel yell, incapable of description, 
conceivable only by those who knew it, dominated the uproar. 
The march trended diagonally through the gorge by lane or 
by path, and thence by the roadway which connects the Em- 
metsburg turnpike with the Taneytown road, crossing the gap 
between the two Round Tops. Following this road a short 
16 



— 242 — 

distance, then removing the fences, the column turned to the 
left into the timber, beyond and in front of the famous wheat- 
field. Rocks and boulders were scattered about, not so large 
or massive as those in the gorge. The ground in front, well 
cleared, fell off in quite a slope and was interspersed with rocks 
and a few straggling trees. Beyond this open ground and in 
full view was the Rose House on another rise. To the right, 
on the other side of the road, was an open space apparently 
unprotected, the source of much anxiety. Here were a num- 
ber of batteries, their left resting on the opposite side of the 
road at the point where the brigade had entered the timber, 
their right extending towards the front, in a line deflecting a 
little from a direction nearly parallel with the road. The only 
one noticeably in view was Bigelow's famous 9th Massachusetts 
Battery of brass twelves on the extreme left. His guns were 
being served with wonderful rapidity, accompanied by that 
pluck, energy and determination as much a part of all well-ap- 
pointed batteries in action as were the guns themselves. These 
batteries apparently were wholly without infantry support on 
their right. As soon as the brigade had nearly cleared the road 
it was halted and faced to the front, upon the further edge of the 
timber. This restored the formation as it was before the march 
to the battle-field began, bringing the 1 1 8th again on the right. 
The 2d Brigade had preceded the 1st into the woods and 
left so little space for it to occupy between its right and the 
batteries that the 1 8th Massachusetts was necessarily thrown 
to the rear as a support, and the whole of the right wing of 
the 1 1 8th was refused to the right at a sharp right-angle. As 
the division was then posted, the 11 8th was the extreme right 
regiment. Except the troops that had been in the peach orchard, 
which was but a short distance in front, and those on the Em- 
metsburg turnpike, the brigade was farther advanced than any 
troops on the left had been or subsequently were during the 
battle. As the line was established, a thin line of battle in 
front, not heavier than a strong skirmish line, taking it for 
granted that it was relieved, withdrew. They were immedi- 



243 — 




— 244 — 

ately replaced by skirmishers from the brigade. During all this 
time the firing had been very heavy in every direction, and the 
men, in eager expectancy of an assault, manifested such an 
anxiety for action that they were cautioned to restrain them- 
selves long enough, in case of attack, to permit the skirmishers 
to retire. They were kept but a moment in waiting. The in- 
creased activity of the guns, their loud and deafening roar, 
loud cries for canister, indicated, though his lines were still un- 
seen by the infantry, that the artillery had discovered the 
enemy and were determined to inflict prompt and damaging 
punishment. It was ineffectual, and the onslaught, timed as 
at twenty minutes after four, terrible and severe, first fell upon 
the left • of the brigade. The musketry rolled in continuous 
roar, volley after volley was poured in heavily as nearer and 
nearer the enemy approached the right. The ground trembled, 
the trees shook and limbs quivered. " Shell without cutting 
fuse ! " shouted Bigelow. All the other batteries had retired and 
one section of his. The skirmishers came in hurriedly, and then 
across the unguarded space a column of the enemy appeared 
through the smoke, moving with shout, shriek, curse and yell, 
about to envelop the entire exposed and unprotected right flank 
of the regiment. They were moving obliquely, loading and 
firing with deliberation as they advanced, begrimed and dirty- 
looking fellows, in all sorts of garb, some without hats, others 
without coats, none apparently in the real dress or uniform of 
a soldier. The regiment now opened vigorously, and the en- 
tire brigade was hotly engaged. The man who had been 
summarily relieved of head-quarter pack-horse duty by the rear 
guard, a few days before, showed conspicuous gallantry. Be- 
grimed with powder, hatless, a few paces in advance, shouting 
continually," Give them hell, boys! " hewasdoingexcellentwork. 
Twitted and jeered for his previous failures, the slurs changed 
to commendations at this early attempt at leadership. The 
line preserved its regularity; there was no attempt to seek cover 
among the rocks or timber, but the men stood erect, stepping 
a pace to the rear to load and returning promptly to the front 



— 245 — 

to fire. The enveloping process continued with alarming 
rapidity. Colonel Gvvyn had noted its progress with anxiety. 
A change of front or a disorderly break would alone prevent 
capture or annihilation. Discipline, firmness, courage were in 
readiness, and in response to Colonel Gwyn's order, repeated 
in the stentorian tones of Major Herring, ringing out above 
the din of battle, " Change front to the rear on ioth Company, 
battalion about face, by company right half wheel, march!" 
the regiment, under all this withering, pelting fire, executed 
the movement with as much alacrity, precision and detail as it 
ever did on any parade occasion. The rest of the brigade had 
also executed a similar manoeuvre, which changed the entire 
front in the new direction. The position of the organization 
was so far altered as to bring the brigade into two lines, 
the 1 1 8th still retaining the right of the first line. Colonel 
Sweitzer was notified of the change and directed to con- 
form his movements to co-operate in resisting the heavy attack. 
The line retired, loading and firing with deliberation, for some 
300 yards, crossing a corner of the wheat-field and making 
another stand in the timber behind a stone fence, about 200 
feet from the gate opening into the lane of the Trostle House. 
So orderly was this retirement that there was neither break, 
hurry nor undue crowding. Save when Major Biddle, of Gen- 
eral Meade's staff, rode his horse into the ranks, earnestly im- 
ploring a halt, there was neither waver nor hesitation. These 
movements were neither sudden nor panicky, but performed in 
obedience to orders and conducted with all military propriety.. 
Bigelow, sorely pressed and his battery in imminent danger, 
followed the movement, withdrawing his pieces by prolongs. 
Then he took position in the angle, almost at the Trostle House 
gate, slightly in front and to the right of the regiment, where 
he did damaging execution. He had not moved until the 
enemy, with a savage yell, were on the very top of him and 
had completely covered both his flanks. Sergeant Augustus 
Luker, Company E, Corporal DeWitt Rodermel, Company E, 
James J. Donnelly, Company C, Sergeant Joseph Turner, 



— 246 — 

Company F, of the 11 8th, gallantly assisted in keeping back 
Kershaw's skirmishers from his left flank, and Bigelovv to this 
day continues to refer admiringly to their gallant conduct. 
Whilst lying behind the stone wall, the same James J. 
Donnelly, who had taken his place with Company E on 
the extreme right, attracted attention by the cool, deliberate 
and accurate manner with which he used a carbine that he had 
picked up at Aldie and carried with him afterward. Donnelly 




SERGEANT AUGUSTUS LUKER. 



had been detailed for orderly duty at regimental head-quarters 
and, being without musket or equipments, had taken this 
method to provide himself with a weapon, intending to use it 
to a purpose at the first opportunity. He had exhausted his 
ammunition and, desiring instructions what he should do for 
more, from Lieutenant Samuel N. Lewis, who stood in his im- 
mediate vicinity and had noticed the man's behavior, was di- 



— 247 — 




— 248 



rected to leap over the wall and remove the cartridge-box and 
take the musket from the dead body of a soldier that lay some 
fifteen or twenty paces to the front. Without hesitation, amid 
a shower of bullets, he executed the direction, slowly removed 
the accoutrements, seized the musket and returned to his place. 
He then called Lieutenant Lewis's attention to a Confederate 
stand of colors and its color-bearer. Taking deliberate aim, he 
fired, and the standard almost instantly fell. Donnelly, en- 
raptured with his 
success, never after- 
wards returned to 
his orderly duty, but 
remained, coura- 
geously fighting, in 
the ranks, and to- 
wards the end of 
the war was re- 
warded with a well- 
earned promotion to 
a first lieutenancy. 

The yard and 
grounds oftheTros- 
tle House soon 
swarmed with skir- 
mishers from Barks- 
dale's brigade. The 
Mississippians 
crowded every cor- 
ner, knoll and rock that offered protection, pouring in a de- 
structive and accurate fire. Their line of battle, with colors 
well to the front, developed distinctly and still continued to 
envelop the right and the battery, punishing it most seriously. 
They soon covered the rear as well as the flank. With a 
mad rush they made for the guns. Bigelow was almost 
surrounded ; he had lost eighty horses. Nearly all his men 
were killed or wounded. Yielding to the inevitable, the pieces 




JAMES J. DONNELLY. 



— 249 — 

were abandoned, and all four fell into the enemy's hands, to be 
subsequently, however, retaken before the close of the day. 
This spot no longer tenable, a further withdrawal was neces- 
sitated. Just as it commenced the color-bearer of the 21st 
Mississippi regiment advanced through the gate of the Tros- 
tle House and, halting in the road, stood gallantly and cour- 
ageously waving his colors in the midst of the thickest of the 




CAPTAIN RICHARD W. DAVIDS. 

melee. Beside him a Confederate skirmisher was seen to drop 
on one knee and take deliberate aim at Captain Richard W. 
Davids. His shot was effective. The ball penetrated his 
body; staggering, he fell into the arms of Smith, who was 
by his side, and with his aid and that of others he made 
an effort to reach the rear, but fell within a few paces 
of where he had been shot and expired where he fell. 
He met his fate with true soldierly composure. Captain 



— 250 — 

Davids was a man of positive convictions, earnest purpose and 
strong determination. Of high soldierly instincts, his courage 
was heroism and his bravery daring. With his superior mili- 
tary attainments he coupled a genial, generous disposition. 
Cultured, affable, firm, he was endeared to those with whom he 
associated, admired by those whom he commanded. 

At this time Lieutenant James B. Wilson and Lieutenant 
Inman were severely wounded. Lieutenant Inman's wounds 
were of a character that prevented his ever again resuming 
his duties in the field, and Lieutenant Wilson was a long 
time recovering.* 

As the command withdrew, a Georgia regiment, moving at 
double-quick, with arms at the right shoulder and colors fly- 
ing, passed the left of the regimental line. They were prison- 
ers of war, guarded by a small squad of their captors and 
were being hurried to the rear to get them out of the fire of 
their own people. In the flurry of the capture the demand was 
not made that they should lay down their arms, and they 
apparently unconsciously continued to bear them, although 
they were prisoners. It is probably fortunate for the small 
squad who had them in charge that they, as well, uncon- 
sciously forgot to use them. 

The enemy seemed startled and appalled at their success. 

* Lieutenant Inman says : " Lieutenant Wilson and myself were wounded, and 
I lay upon the field until the morning of the 4th, when some of the men of 
Company F, of which I was an officer, carried me off on a stretcher to the hos- 
pital, where Dr. Thomas operated on me. On Thursday night, whilst lying 
within the rebel lines, the 139th Ohio Regiment came to where I was, and I 
■quietly called one of the sergeants and asked him to help me into our lines. He 
reported to the colonel the fact of being within the enemy's line, when he imme- 
diately ordered right about face and fell rapidly back, leaving me alone with the 
dead. That night a number of stray hogs came to where I lay and commenced 
rooting and tearing at the dead men around me. Finally one fellow that in the 
darkness looked of enormous size approached and attempted to poke me — grunting 
loudly the while. Several others also came up, when, waiting my chance, I jammed 
my sword into his belly, which made him set up a prolonged, sharp cry. By 
constant vigilance and keeping from sleeping I contrived to fight the monsters 
off till daylight." 



— 251 — 

They had lost something in organization, but their numbers 
were overpowering. Their yells, howls and cheers never 
ceased. 

Colonel Gwyn gave orders to about face. It has been 
claimed that our brigade was withdrawn with undue haste at 
this juncture of affairs ; but if it was not time to retire when oui 
own guns were in the hands of the enemy and the 2 1st Missis- 
sippi was upon our right flank and so near, in fact, that Corpo- 
ral S. M. Caldwell, Company E, was shot through the right 
side of the head at close quarters, well, then, we had learned 
what we knew of the art of war in vain. Lieutenant Lewis 
and several other officers emptied their revolvers at the 
now eager and confident foe in close pursuit and our men 
withdrew sullenly, turning occasionally to give the rebs a 
parting shot. 

The whole battle-field was in a twirl. Neither side seemed 
to comprehend what relation their present positions bore to 
those they occupied when the engagement commenced. Since 
the attack had begun, in the frequent changes of front and 
direction, they had become so intermingled that they were for 
the moment apparently attempting to unwind themselves. 
Although organization was fairly preserved, there were mo- 
ments when regularity of formation was lost, and loud tones 
of command and defiant waving of colors indicated vantage 
grounds and gave assurance of strength and confidence to the 
hesitating ranks. On a little rise in the rear of the stone fence 
Major Herring stood conspicuously near the regimental colors, 
which were being flaunted as if in contemptuous opposition to 
the advancing enemy. The Major in loud and penetrating 
tones bade the men rally around the colors, to stand fast 
where they were, to yield no further. But the withdrawal con- 
tinued, with less regularity, however, than had attended the 
movement to the vicinity of the Trostle House. At no time, 
though, was there panic or demoralization. Herring's assur- 
ing tones instilled resolution and encouraged determination. 
As darkness was about concluding the contest, the line was 



— 252 — 

established in front and a little to the right of the point where 
the command had crossed the ridge near Little Round Top in 
the afternoon. Concerning the retirement Colonel Tilton offi- 
cially said : " I think, however, I saved my brigade from great 
disaster, after it could no longer be of any good at the front, 
and succeeded in forming a new line, which was retained dur- 
ing the night." 

While the withdrawal from the Trostle House was in prog- 
ress, attention was attracted to the solid, ringing, regular tramp 
of firm, determined men. Concealed by the smoke and the 
irregularities of the ground, the sound of the approaching 
mass was heard before the line appeared in sight. As it drew 
nearer and nearer, that splendid division, the Pennsylvania Re- 
serves, came suddenly into view, sweeping everything before it, 
as if confident in the assurance of its own inherent strength. 
With Crawford leading, hat in hand, waving his followers on 
to victory ; with fixed bayonets, steady tread and in excellent 
alignment, shouting and cheering, as if the victory were already 
theirs, they pressed on in that memorable charge that restored 
so much of the ground lost and recovered so many of the 
guns taken during the afternoon. Their rush had been so 
sudden that many of the enemy, who had succeeded in work- 
ing around the right of the corps, were caught between their 
advancing and Barnes's retiring lines. There was no escape, 
and, yielding reluctantly, they stepped out hurriedly to a place 
of safety. The 1st Brigade was small, and the prisoners taken 
by them almost equalled in numbers the strength of the brig- 
ade. W 7 ith some the reluctance was not so manifest, and they 
expressed satisfaction at being safely out of that " blazing 
hell." 

After the division had withdrawn to its second position, it 
having been reported that Caldwell's brigade, of the 2d Corps, 
was driving the enemy to the left and front, Svveitzer's brigade 
was sent to its assistance. The 1 8th and 22d Massachusetts 
regiments, of the 1st Brigade, accompanied it. The effort was 
futile, disastrous, and resulted in severe loss. The 4th Michi- 



— 253 — 

gan and 62d Pennsylvania crossed bayonets in actual contact 
with the enemy. Colonel Jeffords, commanding the former 
regiment while mounted, was thrust through with a bayonet, 
as he gallantly attempted to rescue his colors. With the ex- 
ception of this advance, the movements of the two brigades 
corresponded with each other during the entire engagement, 
and they were together when the line was established in the 
evening in front of the ridge near Little Round Top. 

The night was mellow in its soft summer radiance. A 
sulphurous smoke veiled the battle-field, but disappeared with 
the night wind. The stars shone brilliantly, and stillness, 
hushed, intense, inspiring, succeeded the terrible roar, which 
died away gradually with the fading daylight. Wearied and 
worn, heedless of the portending terrors of a battle not yet 
over, the soldiers found a much needed rest in the short interval 
of darkness vouchsafed before the breaking of another summer's 
mornincf.* 



* Dr. Joseph Thomas furnishes the following graphic description of the scene 
after the second day's battle : " About eleven o'clock at night the ambulances 
were busy collecting and carrying to the rear great loads of mangled and dying 
humanity. The wagon-train, with tents and supplies, had not yet arrived, and the 
wounded were deposited on the ground. The site selected for the wounded of the 
1st division was a field just in rear of Big Round Top, a little over a half mile 
from its base. As they were removed from the ambulances they were placed in 
long rows, with no reference to the nature or gravity of their injuries, nor condition 
or rank. Friend and foe alike, as they had been promiscuously picked up where 
they had fallen, were there laid side by side in these prostrate ranks of bleeding, 
suffering and dying unfortunates. Soon the ambulances ceased their visits, as 
they had gathered up all that were accessible or could be found in the darkness. 
There were about 250 or 300 thus collected and lying upon the ground awaiting 
examination by the surgeon, as soon as dawn should appear to furnish light for the 
painful work. Opiates were administered to alleviate pain, and water supplied to 
appease their thirst. One of the surgeons then wrapped himself in his blanket and 
sought a brief repose to prepare himself for the busy work of the morrow. It was 
futile to attempt to sleep, for the horrors of the environment put this out of the 
question. Sounds of pain and anguish, invocation and supplication, singing, and 
even cursing by some in their delirium or sleep, were promiscuously intermingled. 
To sleep was impossible. At last morning dawned, and at the same time orders 
were received to remove the wounded farther to the rear and out of range of the 
enemy's batteries, which were expected to shell that quarter as soon as it was light 



— 254 — 

The earliest streaks of dawn had scarce made objects distin- 
guishable, ere the pickets signified their purpose of continued 
strife by sharp, persistent firing. The 3d of July, the third 
of these three eventful days, had broken to close again in bloody 
strife, and to roll back in terrible disaster the final attempt to 
break the hard-pressed Union lines. At daylight the brigade 
was shifted to the rocky face of Round Top, and there relieved 
Vincent's brigade, now commanded by Rice. The strength 
and valor of that brigade, tested to the highest degree of soldier 
manhood, had saved that commanding eminence, and with it 
the entire line from the momentary grip the enemy had upon it. 
This wooded promontory, boldest of all the hills in the vicinity, 
was visible for miles in every direction. It was without road 
or pathway, a mass of huge, round, smooth, slippery boulders. 
Securely manned, the hill would have been almost invulnerable 
against assault. To the natural defences the position afforded, 
the troops relieved had added a substantial stone breastwork. 
The trees were rudely scarred, split and torn in every conceiv- 
able way, and scarce a bush, twig or limb but that bore con- 
vincing evidence of heavy firing from both cannon and small 
arms. 

This position commanded a view of all the country between 
the two lines to the left of the Union centre, covering a scope 
of some two square miles. Immediately in front for some half 
mile was thick timber, concealing the rocks, stones, caves and 
boulders that made up the well-named, weird, forsaken and 
desolate Devil's Den. Through this, and extending to the 
right beyond it, coursed a sluggish stream of width and volume 
scarce sufficient to dignify it with a name, called Plum Run. 
Its waters were not confined to its channel, but spread out in 

enough. Ambulances simultaneously arrived, and the wounded were again placed 
in them and taken to a more remote point back on Rock Creek, where tents were 
subsequently pitched to shelter them. In lifting them upon the conveyances, it 
was discovered that many were dead. The removal from the place was accom- 
plished none too soon, for as the last load was moving off, shells and solid shot 
began to fall in formidable numbers on the place." 



— 255 — 
swamp and bog over loamy ground grown rank in a tall swamp 




ROUND TOP. 

grass. Beyond this growth of timber in its front to the Union 



— 250 — 

left, the country rolled off in open, arable, cultivated lands until 
it was interrupted by the timber crowning the other crest, Sem- 
inary Ridge, which the enemy occupied. The enemy's lines 
were distant, all along his front, about three-quarters of a mile. 
The ridge he held ran almost parallel with that occupied by the 
Union forces, until it reached beyond Round Top, where it 
deflected to his front, terminating not far from the base, and 
almost on the flank, of that mountain. It was much lower, 
and in no sense commanded it. The Emmetsburg road, a 
broad, well-made turnpike, extended the entire distance between 
the two lines, but was nearest the Union line. Along it, and 
elsewhere over the scene, fine old-fashioned farm-houses, with 
large, substantial barns, stables and out-buildings, dotted the 
undulating lands. Just at the season of wheat harvest, the 
whole country teemed with abundant crops, ripening to a rich 
maturity. The battle doubtless made the wheat harvest of the 
locality a failure, and the usual prolific yield of the other crops 
was probably materially interfered with. Numbers of these 
commodious houses and roomy barns fell victims to the flames, 
and all through the fight great volumes of smoke from burning 
buildings, barns and hay-ricks rolled up like huge spires — for 
there was but little wind — at various points between the lines. 
It was a field that more strongly contrasted thrifty, enterprising, 
prosperous peace with harsh, rude, relentless war, than any 
other on which the Army of the Potomac ever fought. 

The regiment was just becoming familiar with its new sur- 
roundings on Round Top when a Confederate officer, without 
sword or belt, with his coat thrown back with an air of ease, 
independence and authority, comfortably enjoying a cigar, mov- 
ing calmly and leisurely as if he were quietly out for a stroll, 
deliberately walked into the lines. The enemy was close, and 
our skirmishers were advanced but a few paces. He had passed 
through them unobserved, or had been permitted to do so, with 
a conviction that his capture was certain to follow elsewhere. 
Astonished, he moodily accepted his fate, and was promptly 
conducted to the rear. He was a staff officer, and had no idea 



— 257 — 

he was in such proximity to the Union lines, when a few mo- 
ments before he sought a short respite from the bustle and 
activity of head-quarters by strolling off in a direction where 
he thought he would be alone. Of good address and culture, 
he was keenly sensitive to the reproach that might follow the 
unfortunate way in which he had permitted himself to be taken. 

There were many distressing sights of torn and mangled 
bodies upon the mountain side. One Confederate in the death 
grip had seized the sharp edge of a huge rock, and with feet 
held fast in a cleft of the rock above, hung head downwards 
between the two. Wild hogs feeding on the corpses magnified 
the surrounding horrors. One of the enemy, evidently mor- 
tally wounded, shot early in the engagement on the previous 
afternoon, had been placed upon a stretcher to await oppor- 
tunity for removal. Meanwhile his people had been driven 
from their position, and he had lain all night in fearful agony, 
scarce able to articulate from thirst. Grateful for the water 
that temporarily allayed his sufferings, he was removed a short 
distance to the rear, but not far enough to be out of the range 
of the bombardment that followed a few hours later. At its 
conclusion his body was found frightfully mangled. His own 
guns had expedited a death which would have surely followed 
the wounds inflicted by his enemies. He, with others, spoke 
of the terrible punishment their forces had received, and was 
by no means sanguine of ultimate success. They had been 
encouraged in the assurance that they would encounter only 
militia, and took some consolation in the fact that their failure 
to make good their onslaught had been due to the tried and 
experienced soldiery of the old Potomac Army. 

All the morning there was a hushed and painful anxious 
stillness. Save the bickering of the pickets, the two great 
armies were in quiet repose, or gathering in cautious prepara- 
tion for another stroke. So quiet was it that, tempted by the 
silence, the chaplain found his way to the front to minister con- 
solation to the dying and call the attention of the living to the 
uncertainties of human existence, by a liberal distribution of 
17 



— 258 — 

tracts and periodicals. His flock was not as appreciative as he 
would have desired, nor his means and methods as convincing 
as he would have had them. The battle-field, where men be- 
come stolid against its horrors, indifferent to its fear, heedless 
of its anxieties, seems not the place for the encouragement of 
religious training, or the propagation of the Gospel's teachings. 

But relief soon came to the anxious waiting ; the painful 
stillness was abruptly broken. At one o'clock every gun in 
every battery that lined the crest of Seminary Ridge opened in 
simultaneous crash. Instantly every gun on the Union ridge 
responded. Without let or hindrance the cannonading contin- 
ued for well nigh two hours. There was not first a gradual sub- 
sidence and then a swelling again to the discharge of all the 
guns, but without stop, break or interruption the firing con- 
tinued as it commenced, throughout the whole time of the 
bombardment, by all the guns of all the batteries of both the 
armies, for which position could be found on the ridges they 
respectively occupied. From the position on the slope of 
Round Top the enemy's line, as marked by its fire, was in full 
sight for two-thirds of its entire length. 

The sun shone in unusual splendor, and made the puffs from 
each discharge from the enemy's batteries so distinct, until the 
thickening smoke cut off the view of ridge and valley, that 
seemingly, though almost a mile away, they flashed in the very 
faces of those at whom the fire was directed. Screech, whistle, 
roar, crash, thug, explosion, so filled the air with inharmonious, 
conflicting noise as to drown the human voice. 

As the more deadly whir and buzz of the flying fragments of 
exploded shell dominated the screech and whistle of bolt and 
solid shot, men cast anxious glances at each other until the 
sound died away harmlessly in the distance. The guns, served 
as if with venomous rapidity, would send the solid shot along 
with the fury of a maddened bowler who, angered at his luck, 
recklessly sends his balls in rude confusion to their destination, 
careless of his aim, heedless of results, anxious only that his 
task were done. The blows from the weighty missiles fractured 



— 259 — 

rocks, splintered timbers and shattered the loose material of the 
entrenchments. This contributed to wounds and bruises, where 
the weight of metal had failed of its more deadly purpose. The 
army had not yet acquired tact or speed in the construction of 
breastworks, nor was the rocky surface so adapted to their 
erection as the more pliable soil of Virginia. There was no 
such cover as the well-built lines of Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor 
and Petersburg afforded, and the open country contributed to a 
better accuracy of fire. 

The buzz and hum of conversation ceased. There was a 
strange and remarkable stillness. Every man was motionless 
and silent. The prophetic enthusiast, ever ready with his 
boastful foreknowledge of the next move on the chess-board 
of battle, ceased to prophesy. Poor practice was greeted by no 
such jocular phrase, irresistible on other fields, as " Shorten 
your fuses," " Elevate your pieces," " Depress your guns." 
Vivid animation yielded to sober, serious reflection. Stilled to 
an awful pause, save when the batterymen worked with untiring 
energy and ceaseless activity, the whole army lay prone, hushed 
in appalling silence. Men investigating their surroundings, 
ministering to the needs of the wounded, hurriedly sought 
their places. Veiled in smoke, obscured by the timber, the 
soldiers as close to the ground as if they were part of it, it was 
scarce conceivable these wooded hillsides concealed a great 
army of animated, living beings. 

And the incessant roar and the wild, unremitting screech 
continued all this long and weary time — weary from long 
inaction — when it slackened and then ceased as abruptly as it 
began. The smoke slowly lifted, and there was nothing to ob- 
scure a full view of almost the whole length of the enemy's front 
and of the more than three-quarters of a mile of open country 
that separated the two lines. The great silence, the portentous 
lull, was ominous of the enemy's assault. Unlike such other 
operations, there was no attempt to protect or conceal the 
column of attack. There was no overhanging mist of break- 
ing day, no uncertain shadows of a lingering twilight, no 



— 260 — 

glimmer of a pale and sickly moon, no friendly timber, no 
sheltering knoll. But, in the full glare of the afternoon sun- 
light, Seminary Ridge suddenly bristled with activity, and from 
the timber which crowned its crests there emerged, covering 
half its length and opposite the Union centre, two solid, un- 
wavering lines of battle. Their distances were preserved with 
accuracy, their mounted officers occupied their several proper 
stations. The standards fluttered defiantly, the muskets, at a 
right-shoulder, glistened brightly. Upon their right flank huge 
columns of masses moved in support, and as the lines cleared 
the woods, heavy bodies followed in reserve. Four hundred 
yards is considered to be the limit of distance fair to test the 
strength and metal of men. Here there was nearly a mile to 
cover before the lines would impinge, and then the point of im- 
pact was against the enemy's centre rarely effectual. No other 
word fittingly describes those splendid lines as they appeared 
before shot or shell disturbed or shattered their symmetry save 
the somewhat extravagant adjective — magnificent. There was 
no crescendo yell, no wild, weird shriek, and the tramp was 
steady, solemn, silent. As if in waiting for a full disclosure of 
the purpose, the Union guns reserved their fire. Then deep, 
sonorous, rapid, they plied their terrible punishment, and yet, 
with unflinching nerve and steady grandeur, the formidable 
charging column pressed right along in the full sweep of a 
resistless energy. There was hesitating, anxious questioning 
whether at the point of contact there was strength sufficient to 
withstand the crushing blow. A slight crumbling on the 
flanks forced a deflection to the left ; but, recovering promptly 
the direct advance, the whole mass passed out of view behind 
an intervening wood, amid unrestrained expressions of admira- 
tion for such heroic daring. Again everything disappeared in 
the gloom of the impenetrable smoke. As the lines approached 
the enemy's fire noticeably slackened and the Union guns con- 
tinued with increased wicked, nervous intensity. Suddenly 
they too ceased for a moment, and then, as if with universal 
crash, the death-rattle of small arms drowned all other sounds. 



— 26l — 

The usual musketry smoke curtain indicated a scene of fright- 
ful carnage. The noise of the contest rose and fell in heavy 
surging volumes, and then, as first, groups and knots, and then 
other groups and other knots appeared beyond the woods in the 
desperate hurry of confused retreat, it died away to rise again 
in sullen anger as the enemy's guns opened to help back home 
again the pitiful few who alone remained of all that splendid 
host. Pickett's charge, to be memorable throughout the ages, 
was a failure, and historic Gettysburg, from whence Confederate 
treason began to slowly ebb its life away, was over. 

The soft and soothing shimmer of another moonlight night 
hushed the battle-field in slumber, and the Fourth of July, 
bathed in calm, refreshing sunlight, dawned as if in joyous 
commemoration of the old freedom and in bright recognition 
of the nation's new birth of liberty. As if there had been 
work enough, the bickering of the pickets subsided to watch- 
fulness, and by noon the battle-field was in repose. 

About ten o'clock the brigade moved out to feel and develop 
the enemy. At the foot of the hill and in the gorge there were 
thrilling, horrifying scenes of blood and carnage. The dead 
lay in all shapes and in every direction, some upon their faces, 
others on their backs, while others were twisted and knotted 
in painful contortions. The progress of the advance was much 
impeded in the effort to tread without stepping upon the bodies. 
Some kneeling behind the rocks had met their death where 
they dropped for shelter. The men gave way at times in- 
stinctively from the muzzles of muskets resting upon rocks and 
stones, down the barrels of which the sightless glassy eyes 
still gazed and the guards of which were grasped by hands 
convulsed in death. Seeking shelter in kneeling, to aim, they 
had fallen in the act of firing. Numbers of the enemy lay in 
a shallow trench they had dug, evidently to avoid the unerring 
fire of some expert skirmishers. They had torn and twisted 
leaves and grass in their agonies and their mouths filled with 
soil — they had literally bitten the dust. One or two were in 
the act of biting tobacco, of which most of them had a lavish 



— 262 — 

supply in their mouths. At one spot, a point either of des- 
perate resistance or formation for an assault, thirty-seven dead 
bodies lay in line, side by side. In Confederate clothing, their 
uniforms were better than usual, and all had new black 
slouched hats, doubtless from the stock of some neighboring 
dealer. In front of these bodies lay that of an officer of fine 
proportions, manly physique and remarkably handsome features. 
His head rested upon a stone ; his limbs were straightened, 
his hands folded ; he had evidently been prepared for decent 
sepulture. A letter, through which the ball had passed that 
penetrated his heart, identified him as Captain William A. 
Dunklin, of the 44th Alabama. Many years after the war the 
incident of finding his body was brought to the knowledge of 
his relatives in Selma, who, up to that time, knew only of his 
death at Gettysburg, but nothing of its attendant surround- 
ings. 

The advance pushed on without interruption to the edge of 
the timber bordering the wheat-field. In the belief that what 
still remained of the standing grain concealed the enemy's 
pickets, the skirmish line, under Lieutenant Walters, was 
pressed vigorously into it. A formidable volley, the appear- 
ance of large bodies on either flank anda movement in front, 
indicating a purpose to engage, sufficiently accomplished 
Colonel Tilton's instructions to develop the enemy, and he 
withdrew to the vicinity of the point from whence he started. 

The brigade fell back a short distance and formed a line of 
battle in a piece of woods. An hour or so after taking up this 
position a storm arose and the rain descended in torrents. 
The bayonets of the guns were jammed into the ground to 
prevent the water running into the barrels. 

A farm-house stood near. In the midst of the storm its 
proprietor came out, approached the general and insisted that 
the troops should be moved further out. " Couldn't the general 
see that if a fight took place there his house and outbuildings 
would be ruined ? Why, those heavy shot and shell would go 
right through the walls, and one place was as good as another 



263 — 




Map showing 
^ v (3 Jdositi 

II8th 

Juty 2nd. 1863. 

Compiled from Official War Records 






— 264 — 

to fight in." He pleaded, begged, beseeched, stormed ; but all 
to no purpose. The unfeeling general told him that a move- 
ment was impossible, and the hard-hearted soldiery greeted his 
appeals with roars of derisive laughter. The regiment biv- 
ouacked that night in the same position, the storm continuing 
unabated. 

This storm, breaking the intense heat of the three preceding 
days, was so memorable that for a long time it was designated 
as the rain of the Fourth of July, '63, and, in any confusion 
of dates in the memories of the participants in the battle, served 
as a guide to rectify discrepancies. 

While the regiment lay crouching for protection in its first 
position near the Rose House, before it had yet become en- 
gaged, a rabbit, startled from its cover by the advance of Mc- 
Laws's assaulting Georgians, rushed in frightened, headlong 
leaps towards the Union lines. Innocent of purpose to harm, 
he plunged in one of his aimless jumps right into the ranks 
and planted his cold, sharp claws firmly into the neck of a 
soldier who lay flat near the right of the regiment. It was too 
much for the poor fellow. He gave it up, and, jumping to his 
feet, with pitiful expression, in woe-begone tones, wringing his 
hands in agony, announced himself a dead man ; that he had 
been shot in the neck ; that the ball had passed entirely 
through, and there was no hope for him. He recovered his 
equanimity, however, when those in the neighborhood, who 
had observed the cause of his trouble, received his dire an- 
nouncement with the merriment it necessarily created. When 
informed that a poor little rabbit had innocently been the 
cause of his discomfiture, he sheepishly resumed his place. 

This rabbit has become so historically famous, it is to be re- 
gretted that it has not been preserved by the taxidermist and a 
place found for it in the Smithsonian Institute. 

General Lafayette McLaws, in a recent article describing his 
attack on the Union lines at this point, mentioned an unsuc- 
cessful assault that Wofford's brigade made upon a rabbit dur- 
ing their advance. He escaped their fire and found safety 



— 265 — 

within our lines. When the coincidence of time and place 
was brought to General McLaws's attention, in a very happy 
vein of correspondence, he identified this particular rabbit as 
the one which Wofford's men missed and which so alarmed the 
poor soldier whom he jumped upon. He gracefully yields all 
claims to it and expresses a willingness that it be known as the 
rabbit of the 1 1 8th Pennsylvania.* 



* Philadelphia, August n, 1886. 
General Lafayette McLaws, Savannah, Ga. : 

Dear Sir : — In your article in the Philadelphia Weekly Press of August 4 
you made mention of a "rabbit episode " on the afternoon of the 2d day of July 
at Gettysburg. 

You say, speaking of the retreat of Sickles's men and the pursuit by Wofford, 
"there was a wide space between the advancing and receding forces. Within 
that space a rabbit jumped up and ran towards the Federal lines. Wofford's 
men, reckless fellows as they were, fired at the rabbit. The rabbit was not hit." 

A history of the 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers (ist Brigade, 1st Division), 5th 
Corps, is in course of compilation and has advanced measurably towards comple- 
tion. Among the amusing incidents told therein is the following one taken from 
a letter to his mother, written by an officer immediately after the battle, in which 
he describes the part taken by the 118th in that great fight. I quote from the 
letter, not the manuscript. " Our brigade immediately took the place of Sickles's 
retreating men, and, as the enemy's artillery continued to play upon our line, the 
men sought cover behind rocks and stones. On the right, where my company 
occupied its place in line, it was more open and uncovered, and the men lay upon 
their faces. Meanwhile could be heard the shouts and yells of the advancing 
enemy above the din and roar of battle. At this juncture a rabbit, frightened by 
the advancing foe, ran among our men and made a jump on the back of the neck 

of private , who, throwing up his hands, exclaimed : ' Oh ! I'm shot ! I'm 

a dead man ! Shot clean through the neck ! ' This set the men laughing, not- 
withstanding the shells and bullets flying around, and they fairly roared at the 
poor fellow." 

Can this possibly be your rabbit ? 
Yours truly, 

F. A. Donaldson, late Captain 118th P. V. 

Savannah, Ga., August 18, 1886. 
F. A. Donaldson, late Captain 118M P. V. : 

Dear Sir: — I have read with great pleasure your letter of August 11, and 
thank you for your kindness in writing me and for the incident you relate so well. 

I think that, in all probability, it was the same rabbit, and perhaps it was the 
same one which a Confederate "hollowed at," saying: " Go it, old fellow; and 
I would be glad to go with you, if I hadn't a reputation to sustain ! " 



— 266 — 

The regiment's proximity to both positions of Bigelow's 
famous 9th Massachusetts Battery, during a part of its three 
hours' serious fighting, justifies a reference to its eminent valor 
on that occasion. It was its first engagement. Its losses were 
exceptional and greater than that of any other light bat- 
tery in any single battle in the war, except one, and then the 
battery was captured by a sudden charge. The very crit- 
ical and daring operation of retiring by prolongcs in the 
presence of charging infantry columns was successfully ac- 
complished for a distance of some three hundred yards. The 
guns were double-shotted with canister and the contents of the 

At any rate, the coincidence of time and place and circumstances is strong 
enough to make us believe that it was the same animal. Your incident cor- 
roborates the one I related, and the only question between us is one of pro- 
prietorship. 

You have probably heard that in the West and South the rabbit is regarded by 
the negro specially as a witch, with a power of getting information and of getting 
out of a difficulty beyond that of the human family, and, therefore, it would not 
seem strange, from a Confederate standpoint, if we should assume that the said 
historical rabbit — as I will call him — in running away from the Confederates, had 
heard from other rabbits the condition of the Confederate commissariat and knew 
that if he ran into their lines he most certainly would be caught and broiled and 
eaten, and thus preferred to run the risk of being shot, in order to get into your 
ranks where he was not wanted "so bad." 

The Confederates were fond of hunting rabbits, in order to add to their meat 
ration, and would hunt them by regiment and even by brigade. The line would 
be formed in single rank, the men a yard or more apart, armed, some with sticks, 
others with rocks, but the majority with nothing, and would march across the 
country for miles, beating the bushes as they went, and as a rabbit was started all 
in the vicinity would shout and try and throw at it, which would so frighten the 
animal that it was easily killed, and thus few escaped. In this way many rabbits 
were killed, sometimes a hundred or two, and even partridges became too fright- 
ened to fly but for a short distance and were caught or killed. 

So that you can see how the presence of a rabbit, running before them, would 
excite " spontanaciously," as the negroes say, the spirit of the Confederates. 

As my men did not catch the rabbit on the occasion referred to, for reasons 
which it is not profitable to discuss, I yield all claim to it and am willing that it 
be known as the " Rabbit of the uSth Pennsylvania Volunteers." 

Again thanking you, I have the honor to be 
Very truly and sincerely yours, 

L. McLAWS, late Major- General C. S. A. 



— 267 — 

limber chests were laid by their side for quick work. Fuses 
were cut from case-shot and shell, that they might explode the 
moment they left the muzzle. Eighty out of eighty-eight horses 
taken into action were killed or disabled. Five hundred and 
twenty-eight rounds, including ninety-two of canister, were 
fired, the weight of all aggregating three tons of shot and 
shell. Of four commissioned officers present two were killed 
and Bigelow himself fearfully wounded. Six of the seven 
sergeants were lost, two of whom were killed. Seven corporals 
and privates were killed, twelve wounded and two made 
prisoners. When surrounded and ordered to cease firing, the 
few survivors fought their way back with hand-spikes and 
sponge-staffs. Two guns were saved, four abandoned. Those 
thus abandoned, and useless to the enemy for immediate opera- 
tion for want of rammers and sponge-staffs, were recap- 
tured the same evening and returned to the battery the next 
day. 

Though the archives of the New England States teem with 
incidents of valorous deeds, the witnesses of Bigelow's proud 
achievements record their tribute to its deserts. 

As illustrating the persistency with which men fought at 
Gettysburg, it is related of William N. Brady, a private in the 
106th Pennsylvania, that he expended at least a hundred 
rounds of ammunition while on the picket line in front of the 
centre during the afternoon of the 2d and morning of the 3d 
of July. This portion of the line had a most determined 
fight. Beside being continuously engaged it very gallantly 
advanced to a house in its front that had furnished cover for 
the enemy's skirmishers, who had done some excellent execu- 
tion from its windows. The house, with all its outbuildings, 
they destroyed and remained by it until the flames effectually 
did their work. Relieved from the picket line did not mean 
withdrawal from the battle. The pickets were returned to their 
posts about the time the artillery firing began that preceded 
Pickett's charge. A full measure of this charge fell upon the 
106th of the Philadelphia (Webb's) brigade. Then Brady. 



— 268 — 



who still continued to work with the same musket, received 
two wounds, one in the arm and the other in the leg, from 
neither of which were the balls ever extracted. The old musket 
did faithful service through all the rest of the war, and, when it 
ended, Brady, then a corporal, more in gratitude for the hand- 
some service it had done at Gettysburg than anything else, 
graciously suffered a charge of six dollars to be made against 
him on his pay-roll and became and still is its absolute owner. 
The government might have been sufficiently generous to pass 
a relic, such as this, to 
one of its stalwart he- 
roes without allowing 
its cost to be deducted 
from his paltry pay. 

Except that a battle 
of great magnitude had 
been fought in which 
both armies had suf- 
fered severely, Gettys- 
burg, viewed from an 
army observation at 
the time, was not differ- 
ent from the many seri- 
ous encounters which 
preceded and followed 
it, save the very unu- 
sual and satisfactory 
opportunity the soldiers had of observing the enemy's witn- 
dravval, instead of participating in one themselves. Great 
battles are rated as decisive as their ultimate results may 
bear on the general issue of great wars. Armies treat 
those battles as decisive that so cripple, disrupt or anni- 
hilate their foes as to destroy their future usefulness for 
the purposes of war. In no such sense was Gettysburg a deci- 
sive battle. Badly depleted in numbers, materially weakened 
in clan, the enemy had withdrawn in excellent order, and was 




— 269 — 

apparently still ready to show a formidable resistance against 
any demonstration of determined assault. The indications 
clearly pointed to another advance into Virginia, and nothing 
was so calculated to soften enthusiasm over successes north of 
the Potomac as the prospect of a speedy change from the 
thrifty, prosperous surroundings of Maryland and Pennsylvania 
to the inhospitable, exhausted, sterile regions of Virginia. The 
Army of the Potomac, taught in its early career to be dem- 
onstrative and enthusiastic, had many times been sadly dis- 
appointed. As its campaigns increased its experience, it be- 
came more cautious with its cheers, more chary with its shouts. 
It preferred to await real results and certain conclusions before 
it would indulge in any untimely or unwarranted manifestations. 
Its business sense increased with its age, and until the fruits of 
its victories were safely garnered it was deemed wisdom to 
restrain any open expression of its appreciation of them. It 
felt with the loyal North that a great burden had been lifted 
from the nation with the failure of the invasion, but it saw be- 
fore it, more clearly than the people, long years of bloody war 
before the army of the rebellion should be so attrited and 
wasted that it should cease to be a power strong enough to 
resist and defy the national authority. So, when Colonel Gwyn, 
in publishing the congratulatory order announcing the Gettys- 
burg success, failed to secure a response to his urgent appeal 
for cheers for the commander-in-chief, and very imprudently 
did his own hurrahing, it was from no lack of regard for Gen- 
eral Meade or any want of appreciation of his high soldierly 
abilities, but simply because the men of the 118th Pennsylvania, 
with their lights and experiences, could not see the wisdom or 
the occasion for any such manifestation of enthusiasm. 

As a battle of enduring importance, of such practical influ- 
ence on the social and political condition of our country that 
a contrary result might have varied the whole of the war in all 
its subsequent scenes and operations, Gettysburg may be reck- 
oned as decisive. It was the final check to the power of the 
Confederate arms to invade or conquer. It was the dividing 



— 2/0 

line between the battles fought for the maintenance of the ex- 
istence of the Confederate States and those fought to retard 
their downfall. 

This prominence has turned upon Gettysburg a fire of criti- 
cism and analysis that seems to gather and strengthen as the 
years roll on. So persistent, and at times so violent, have been 
discussions that many a hero of his score of battles has doubted 
his own remembrance and wondered whether" Gettysburg was 
the only battle. Save some vituperation, a little spleen, and 
very exceptionally prevarication, these discussions have been 
conducted in a spirit of fairness, and will doubtless contribute 
material aid to the book-makers of the coming years. This 
crucible of criticism has brought the skill of the chieftain and 
the valor of the soldier to the closest and severest test of in- 
spection. Forsaking all other fields, the mass of writing on 
this has turned the attention of the student towards it as the 
one upon which to frame a general judgment for skilful man- 
agement and soldierly courage everywhere. It was remarkable 
for skilful movements and splendid valor, but there are other 
fields which do not pale before it. Both Meade and Lee have 
been characterized as intelligent fighting men, doing their best 
with the means at hand to accomplish the end in view. It is 
not conceded that by some superior stroke of genius Lee could 
have changed the result. He was forced to fight an offensive 
battle, engaged in an " offensive defensive campaign," upon 
ground of his enemy's selection. Outgeneralled at the begin- 
ning, he was defeated at the end in measures, both of which 
the skilful leader would have sought to avoid. That Lee 
should have avoided battle where he assaulted will be con- 
ceded. That neither his communications, his supplies, nor his 
ammunition, at the time of Gettysburg, had yet been so seri- 
ously threatened as to force him to an engagement, must also 
be conceded. So when, inspired by his first day's success, he 
was tempted to his third day's defeat and compelled to the 
rarely successful and most unusual effort to pierce his enemy's 
centre, he signally failed to maintain the reputation for genius 



— 271 — 

which his followers had claimed for him, and with which many- 
loyal Northern men yet credit him, as above their own military 
chieftains. 

The valor of the soldier, without intelligent direction through 
proper discipline, is useless. At Gettysburg Anglo-Saxons, the 
most enduring of all the races, were pitted against each other 
in the open field to the fullest test of their highest endurance. 
The battle was eminently a people's fight, and the sturdy 
Northmen won. 




CORPORAL JOHN MICHENER. 



CHAPTER X. 

FROM GETTYSBURG TO WARRENTON. 

THE army loosened its soaking vestments to permit the 
bright rays of the morning sun to absorb the heavy 
moisture with which the severe storm had laden all the soldier 
wore or carried. The enemy had disappeared. Other corps 
were in pursuit, but the 5th, fortunate in its opportunity to 
dry out thoroughly, did not move until six o'clock in the after 
noon, and on the night of the 5th of July bivouacked about 
eleven o'clock on the banks of Marsh Creek, some distance 
below its confluence with Willoughby Run. The route marched 
was across country, around the southern base of Round Top 
and well to the Union left of the battle-field. 

General Griffin, who had arrived on the field during the en- 
gagement and who refused to relieve General Barnes, now re- 
sumed command of his division. 

General Barnes had been severely wounded on the second 
day of the battle, but still kept the field. On the 9th, forced to 
yield to surgical treatment, he relinquished the command of 
the brigade and, though he subsequently returned for a time, 
never afterwards participated in so great an engagement. 
With the brigade he had won honors and fame, secured the 
esteem and confidence of his subordinates and the admiration 
and regard of his soldiers. He justly deserved the considera- 
tion shown him by General Griffin, who arrived amid the heat 
of the contest and declined to assume command until the battle 
was over. Griffin considerately remarked : " To you, General 
Barnes, belongs the honor of the field ; you began the battle 
with the division, and shall fight it to the end." Barnes's sol- 

(272) 



— 273 — 

dierly form is best remembered as at Gettysburg he rode 
valiantly amid the thickest of the fray, encouraging, persuad- 
ing, directing, with that same courageous judgment which had 
ever been his distinguishing characteristic. 

A few days after the battle of Gettysburg numerous car- 
riages from Baltimore and other towns in Maryland visited the 
hospital, bringing with them delicacies, jellies, wines, etc., in- 
tended exclusively for the Confederate soldiers in the hospitals. 
The latter were receiving the same care and attention as our 
own soldiers, getting a part of the supplies furnished by the 
Sanitary and Christian Commissions. It was most provoking 
to observe the preference for the Confederate wounded by these 
Southern sympathizers; consequently the surgeon determined 
to put a stop to it and directed that all such things should be 
left at the hospital supply tent, where all might receive a share 
at the proper time. A guard was therefore placed at the 
principal approach to the hospital, with instructions to halt all 
carriages bringing these supplies. On the next day after this 
order was issued a carriage drove up, containing a darky 
coachman, two ladies and two gentlemen. They stated to the 
guard that they were from Baltimore and desired to know 
where the tent was located containing the Confederate wounded. 
The guard informed them that his instructions forbade him to 
permit them to visit these tents; that all supplies should 
be left at the general hospital tent, and the surgeon in charge 
would direct their distribution. They appeared very indignant 
and inquired at once for the surgeon in charge. Surgeon 
Joseph Thomas put in an appearance, when they inquired by 
what authority a guard had been placed to prevent them from 
visiting and distributing the delicacies they had brought to the 
Confederate wounded. He replied that he had given the order 
and was responsible for its enforcement, adding that the treat- 
ment of the Confederates was in all respects the same as that 
of the Union soldiers; that they got their share of both Sani- 
tary and Christian Commission supplies, as well as food and 

medicines furnished by the medical department ; that previous 
18 



— 274 — 

visitors to the Confederate wounded had made a distinction and 
given their presents exclusively to Confederate soldiers, and, 
therefore, he had determined to allow no further communications 
of this character, but that they should leave their wines, jellies 
and other delicacies with the steward, to be distributed alike 
to Union and Confederate, as might be deemed proper. 
Thereupon the visitors became intensely indignant and threat- 
ened to inform General Meade of the surgeon's conduct. Sur- 
geon Thomas replied that it concerned him very little what 
they might report, or to whom ; that he had charge of the 
hospital and would tolerate no interference with his authority 
by Confederate sympathizers, and that lie advised them to 
leave what they desired and retire from the vicinity, or else he 
would at once direct their arrest as rebels. He called their 
attention to a squad of soldiers standing near. " You per- 
ceive," he said, " that we have the power to hold your party, 
and we shall most surely exercise it unless you leave the camp 
immediately." They concluded that prudence was the better 
part of valor, and pulled out a small bottle or two of wine and 
left. The hospital was not troubled thereafter by such un- 
friendly visitors. 

On the day the battle closed, O. H. Osborn, of Company F, 
was detailed for temporary duty with the hospital department, 
and there was called upon to assist in burying the large accu- 
mulation of amputated limbs. As he passed by one of the 
field hospitals with his armful of legs he was carelessly 
accosted by one of two wounded soldiers of the 1st Michigan, 
who were complacently engaged in a game of cards. The 
one who addressed him had lost his leg in the second day's 
fight and was anxious to identify it. Thinking it might be 
with the load Osborn carried, he requested him to halt and 
permit him to make an examination. " Recollect," said he, 
" my leg can be readily distinguished from the others by a 
carbuncle on the little toe. It gave me much annoyance when 
I had the entire use of the missing member, and I would just 
like to see how the ugly parasite is thriving without me." 



— 275 — 

Osborn's time was precious, and, in refusing the request, he 
consoled the soldier with the assurance that if limbs lost on the 
battle-field should be finally restored, he might be able to 
recognize it in the hereafter. " Good enough," said the Michi- 
gan man, and quietly went on with his game. 

On the 6th reveille sounded at four, but there was no move- 
ment until ten, and then but a shifting of the bivouac for a 
mile or so in the direction of Emmetsburg. The usual con- 
gratulatory battle order was published ; otherwise the day was 
uneventful. 

The commissariat had fallen off to a few and indifferent sup- 
plies. The continuous marching and hard fighting had pre- 
vented foraging. The few hours of leisure in the vicinity of 
Marsh Run afforded an opportunity to test the capacity of the 
country. 

Smith, John L., of Company K, apt and ready with his 
tongue, and withal a judicious provider, was despatched to 
barter and trade with the good people of the vicinity for a fair 
supply of the nourishing products of the neighborhood. 
Captain Crocker's instructions, to whose company Smith be- 
longed, were that he bestir himself and find something to eat. 
He left the character of the edibles wholly to Smith's discre- 
tion, to be selected from such as the market afforded. Gun in 
hand, he started on his mission, meeting many others on his 
route bent upon similar errands. Some three miles out he 
came across a well-to-do farm-house, in which were three wo- 
men and a number of soldiers. Attracted by a flock of geese 
in the yard, the first poultry he had seen, he opened negotia- 
tions with the most matronly of the party, and, selecting the 
largest of the lot, inquired its price. " Seventy-five cents," 
said the matron, and Smith promptly closed the bargain. As 
he seized the goose the good lady, doubtless aware it had 
passed the years when its mastication was possible, generously 
cautioned him to cook the fowl well, as it was very fat — she 
may have said tough. Smith, however, understood it as fat. 
Expressing his thanks for the intimation, he soon had the 



— 276 — 

goose in condition for the fire, and, with her permission, util- 
ized the pot and stove in the kitchen to fully complete its 
preparation for the table. 

While the goose was cooking, Smith had bargained for 
several loaves of bread at the very exorbitant figures of forty 
cents each. He then adjusted himself to quietly wait till the 
goose was cooked and the bread baked. But he was met by 
competition. Other soldiers were about bidding handsomely 
for supplies. To their demands our good housewife could only 
reply that her resources were exhausted. Unfortunately for 
her reputation as an honorable dealer, she disclosed Smith's 
figures. That settled it. The others immediately advanced 
the loaves to sixty cents. Yielding to the temptation, she 
repudiated the Smith contract and accepted their proposition. 
He, meanwhile, not inactive, had overheard the conversation 
and, promptly seeing the raise and going fifteen cents better, 
eventually secured a delivery at the very high rate of seventy- 
five cents. 

All business transactions closed, the conversation naturally 
turned to the all-absorbing subject of the war. Though truly 
loyal Adams county Pennsylvanians, they had heard but little, 
and knew nothing except as the attendant scenes of the late 
battle brought them to a realizing sense of its terrors. Smith, 
in the course of the conversation, pushing and inquisitive, and 
having noticed how the male sex was conspicuously absent, 
graciously turned to the elderly one of the four and, assuming 
that she was the mother of the other three, in a tone of condo- 
lence remarked, " By the way, madam, I assume you are a 
widow, and with all these cares upon you in these troublous 
times your task is by no means a light one." It was too much 
for them. Hitherto controlled solely by mercenary motives, 
and forgetful of their loss, in a traffic which yielded such tre- 
mendous profits, the interrogation revived the remembrance of 
a dear and absent father, and, all bursting into tears, they man- 
aged to stammer out an explanation. When the head of the 
enemy's column had appeared in that vicinity a few days before, 




Corip. John L,. Smith, 



— 277 — 

the good man, husband and father that he was, prompted wholly 
by a motive to save his goods and chattels from destruction, 
spoliation and seizure, announced himself as heartily in sym- 
pathy with the Confederate cause, and ready to serve it in any 
capacity for which he might be fitted. " Good for you, my 
man," said the general officer whom he made his confidant,, 
and promptly equipping him with cartridge-box and rifle, he 
forced him into the ranks, and that was the last they had seen 
or heard of him. They would not be comforted nor cease their 
weeping until the appearance of the shekels again consoled their 
misfortune, and the bargain and the interview closed cheerfully 
when the goose was boiled, the bread done, and all the articles 
paid for. Whether the old man ever returned, and if so, in what 
condition, was never subsequently ascertained. 

Smith returned to the camp in the waning of the afternoon 
and, proud as a successful huntsman, laid the trophies of his 
chase at the feet of his gallant captain. The bread was divided 
among those who had contributed to its purchase, and the 
goose reserved by Crocker to be enjoyed by the favored few 
whom he called about him to partake of the dainty morsel. 

They sat about in anxious expectancy. Crocker cut and 
sawed, and hacked, and then another tried it, but to no avail ; 
the bird would not part. Having exhausted all appliances at 
hand for the carving of fowls, ancient and modern, they con- 
cluded that there were heavier muscle and stronger tools among 
the men, and that to them this old, tried specimen of Adams 
county poultry should be generously assigned. Summoning 
Smith, Crocker bade him have the first sergeant procure an 
axe and divide the fowl as far as it would go among the com- 
pany. It finally yielded to the sturdy blows, but the flesh re- 
fused to respond to all efforts at mastication. The fragments 
were gathered together, and the last seen of the goose were its 
remains being escorted, with muffled drums and reversed arms, 
to a place of decent sepulture. The Confederate general was 
too much for the husband, but the old lady beat the Union sol- 
dier — an uncommonly cute one, too. 



— 278 - 

On the 7th it rained, and with a three o'clock reveille the 
march began at four. This delay of nearly twenty-four hours 
was to await a pending consideration of change in the manner 
of the pursuit from one directly following to a movement around 
the enemy's flank. 

At six o'clock, quietly, soberly, and silently, the column 
crossed the Maryland line. No joyous shouts, no demonstra- 
tive enthusiasm greeted that boundary as when, a few days be- 
fore, the advancing hosts had entered Pennsylvania with the 
belief that their stay would be a long one. The march was 
hard and fatiguing and, with twenty-five miles behind them, at 
seven o'clock the troops bivouacked within a short distance of 
Frederick City. 

The 8th broke dull, heavy and rainy, the storm increasing in 
intensity as the march was resumed at six o'clock. At ten, on 
the summit of the Catoctins, it was dark as night. Up there 
among the clouds vivid flashes of lightning followed each other 
with startling rapidity, and the thunder rolled incessantly. It 
was dark as eventide, although not yet noonday. Completely 
enveloped in a storm-cloud, the column seemed lost in the 
weird, desolate grandeur of the lonely, wooded mountain top. 
But the angry elements soon spent their fury, and the sun- 
light shone out again on quaint old Middletown, freshening the 
bright familiar beauties of the rich Catoctin valley. Renewing 
acquaintanceship with that old-time village, about two o'clock, 
a short distance beyond it, the regiment went into bivouac. 
Sounds of cannonading were heard during the afternoon from 
what was subsequently learned to be a brisk cavalry affair near 
Boonsboro. The sound of the distant cannonading was not so 
startling as when the reverberations were heard among these 
same hills and valleys the year before. Constant familiarity 
with the sounds and effects of gunnery had served to deaden 
the sensibilities. 

On the 9th, a day of sunshine and shadow, the column lei- 
surely followed the old turnpike road over the September Sun- 
day's battle-field of the year before, through Turner's Gap in 



. — 279 — 

the South Mountain range, and by a little after twelve o'clock 
was in bivouac again just west of Boonsboro. A heavy brigade 
picket detail, one hundred and twenty-five men from the regi- 
ment, in charge of the major of the 1st Michigan, indicated the 
presence of the enemy. 

Colonel Tilton, of the 22d Massachusetts, had temporarily 
succeeded General Barnes in command of the brigade. Fre- 
quently in temporary command, he had come to be well known. 
He was of eminent courage and superior attainments, and con- 
sequently inspired confidence and commanded respect. At 
Gettysburg, seen everywhere in the heaviest of the engage- 
ment, he conceived and personally conducted the delicate ma- 
noeuvre which relieved the brigade from the imminent peril of 
its first position. 

The scenes and surroundings were familiar. All the mem- 
ories of the past autumn were vividly revived. The same 
scenery was there in all its grand picturesque effect, but height- 
ened by the beauty of its summer verdure. The promise of a 
hostile battle-front upon the thither side of historic Antietam 
completed the parallel. 

A daybreak reveille on the ioth ushered in a bright, clear 
day. Moving at seven in the morning, the division crossed the 
Antietam at noon and, taking position in two lines of battle, 
bivouacked for the night with the entire 3d Brigade on picket 
duty, some five miles from Williamsport. 

With the heavy marching and with no opportunity for re- 
newing clothing, at least half the regiment was almost shoeless. 
In the hope that the trains or a supply depot might shortly be 
reached, a requisition was forwarded for 154 pairs. 

On the nth, at six o'clock, the brigade marched a short dis- 
tance and then formed line of masses, with the battalions 
doubled on the centre. Pushing through a corn-field to an 
orchard beyond, it so remained in mass until five in the after- 
noon as a support, if necessary, for artillery there unlimbered 
and in battery. During the day Senator Wilson paid a visit to 
the old 22d, scarred, ragged and depleted since he had last seen 



— 28o — 

it, by its many casualties and vicissitudes. Patriotic speech, 
gracious greeting, and generous sentiment welcomed the emi- 
nent statesman, and enlivened the day with grateful memories 
of his distinguished services. 

Towards evening the line of masses advanced in a north- 
westerly direction for some two miles and bivouacked at eight 
o'clock, still in the same formation, on a bluff near the banks 
of a narrow stream which flowed at its foot. 

The 1 2th, a cloudless Sunday morning, was followed in the af- 
ternoon by rain. At eleven o'clock the advance in double column 
was again resumed and continued, with hesitating halts, until the 
enemy's earthworks, located on a distant rise, appeared in view. 
Upon an eminence of equal elevation the double columns were 
deployed to battle lines, and there awaited developments or 
directions. The swale between the two rises was open and 
under high cultivation. The farmers had been interrupted in 
their harvest, and the wheat, cut and gathered but not stored, 
stood stacked at the usual intervals over the fields. Between 
these stacks was the Confederate skirmish line. The whole 
Army of the Potomac appeared to be in position, the 6th Corps 
on the right of the 5th, and the 2d on the left. 

General Meade and his staff came upon the ground, and 
riding to the front of the brigade for some time closely scanned 
the enemy's lines. Ultimately he ordered three companies to 
be detached from the 1 18th and sent out to support the pickets. 
The right and left companies, E and B, were thrown forward, 
and H, the centre company, moved out in support. As this 
detachment entered the wheat stubble, its appearance provoked 
firing. An engagement seemed so imminent that Quarter- 
master Gardner, who wholly unsuspicious of the situation had 
been drawn to the front to exchange a few social greetings, 
rapidly rode away, laughingly remarking that such unnecessary 
exposure was by no means essential to sustain the dignity of 
the non-combatants. 

He was by no means peculiar in his views. Officers of his 
department frequently very properly sought the seclusion of the 



— 28l — 

rear in moments of impending peril. On one occasion a mid- 
night assault was made on the lines in front of Petersburg. The 
bullets whistled about the head-quarters, rattled against the locr S 
and tore through the canvas. The adjutant-general, roused 
from his slumbers, bethought himself first of the necessity for 
his steed, and yelled loudly to the orderly to saddle his horse. 




SKIRMISHING AMONG THE WHEAT STACKS. 



The assault was repulsed, things resumed the usual quietude, 
and all returned to their slumbers. The next morning the 
quarter-master, who had not been noticed in the darkness and 
confusion the night before, was absent from the mess table, and 
continued absent for several days thereafter, when he reappeared 
as suddenly as he had departed. Called upon for an explana- 



— 282 — 

tion of his absence, he replied that all he distinctly remembered 
to have heard during the assault of the night or two before was 
the very penetrating voice of the adjutant-general directing his 
horse to be saddled. Concluding from his experience that the 
only purpose for a horse on such occasions was to run away, 
and desiring not to be behind that officer in such an exploit, he 
quietly ordered his accoutred, and had stolen off on it to more 
secluded quarters. Where he had remained away so long he 
did not vouchsafe to tell, but his appearance indicated he had 
been most generously entertained. 

A further evidence of the imminence of an engagement was 
the astounding conduct, prompted by his overweening religious 
zeal, of Chaplain O'Neill. General Meade still retained the 
position from which he had given the directions for the move- 
ment of the three companies to the support of the pickets. The 
chaplain, with head uncovered, solemnly approached him and 
boldly inquired whether the impending battle could not as well 
be fought on the next day as on God's holy Sabbath. All who 
heard him expected he would meet a crushing rebuke, but in- 
stead of this General Meade received his interrogation most 
graciously and naively replied in parable, drawn to it doubtless 
by the scriptural calling of his interrogator. He said he was 
like a man who had a contract to make a box. The four sides 
were completed, the bottom finished and the lid ready to be 
put on, and that he proposed to do with the engagement about 
to begin. Delay might vitiate the entire contract, and he saw 
no way out of it except for the fight to go on. " Then," said 
the chaplain in tones as if he were administering Heaven's 
thundering anathemas, " as God's agent and disciple, I solemnly 
protest, and will show you that the Almighty will not permit 
you to desecrate his sacred day with this exhibition of man's 
inhumanity to man. Look at the heavens; see the threatening 
storm approaching." And the chaplain's prediction had scarce 
been made before it was fulfilled. The clouds that had been 
gathering all the afternoon suddenly broke forth in copious 
showers, vivid lightning and pealing thunder followed and deep 
darkness settled everywhere before the storm was over. 



— 283 — 

The skirmishers stood confronting each other, quietly taking 
the soaking, their individual identity so lost in blankets that 
in the distance each man more resembled a crow-deceiver than 
the stalwart hero of " big wars." 

The regiment was moved into a wood to the left, where it 
bivouacked for the night ; but a heavy detail of a hundred men 
under Crocker and O'Neill did picket duty in the near vicinity. 
The firing was occasionally rapid and distinctly heard in the 
bivouac. The duty was an important one, and the wisdom was 
commended which had put such intrepid officers in command. 
There had been a question as to whose tour it was to perform 
the duty. Crocker had been out continuously, and his skill 
and courage were given as the reason for an assignment which 
it was believed would require the exercise of his best judgment. 
The picket detail of the day before remained on duty until the 
afternoon, when it was relieved by detachments from the 3d 
Brigade. 

On the 13th it rained again. The brigade was set to build- 
ing breastworks and soon completed a well revetted earthwork 
fortification with depressions at intervals for artillery. A single 
gun of Captain Martin's battery was run into position in one 
of them. 

General Meade again visited the vicinity and rode slowly 
along the lines, examining the position with some care. 

Chaplain O'Neill was determined to make up diligently for 
lost opportunities, and, though it was a secular day, organized 
what he deftly styled a war service. With the two lines facing 
each other in battle array, his phrase was not inaptly used. 
He took his text from the gospel of St. Matthew, 13th chapter, 
9th verse : " Who hath ears to hear let him hear." His strong 
voice and earnest manner commanded an audience, and it was 
irreverently suggested that before he had concluded the ears 
of the whole brigade had heard every utterance. 

Lieutenant Horace Binney, 3d, who had been some time be- 
fore detached as an aide on the staff of General Thomas H. 
Neill, then commanding a brigade in the 6th Corps, paid his 



— 284 — 

old associates a visit during the afternoon. Binney was a 
splendid fellow. His elegance of manner, cultured address, 
gentlemanly carriage, all peculiarly and unostentatiously his 
own, were the stamps of his high breeding and evidences of 
his distinguished, intellectual ancestry. He bore himself nobly 
as a soldier. In action, of unusual nerve and exceptional 
courage, he preserved that same distinctive individuality which 
characterized him elsewhere. Always an attractive figure on 
horseback, the graceful composure with which he rode through 
the exciting dangers of the battle-field was ever noticeable. 
He passed through the war unscathed. Young and promising, 
not long after its close, the alluring prospects of a successful 
legal professional career were before him, when a rapid and in- 
sidious disease carried him speedily to a very early grave. 
A welcome visitor, he continued his intimate associations with 
his regiment whenever location afforded him opportunity. 

On the 14th it was still raining. At 6.30 a. m. the brigade 
was ordered under arms in support of a reconnoissance con- 
ducted by General Crawford's 3d Division. The brigade did 
not, however, move until noon, and then, occupying the 
enemy's breastworks for a short time, continued the march to 
Williamsport, halting there at two o'clock, bivouacking in a 
wheat-field for the night. Lee's legions had disappeared dur- 
ing the previous night and by daybreak were across the Poto- 
mac. A number of the enemy's stragglers fell into our hands 
during the march. Captain Sharwood, who had been left be- 
hind quite ill on the 30th of June, rejoined the regiment. He 
was promptly seized for duty and detailed as officer of the 
day. 

On the 15th, clear and warm, the march began at 4.10 in the 
morning and continued over the South Mountain, through 
Crampton Gap, on the road to Burketsville, until 5. 30 in the 
afternoon. It was a lengthy, trying march and much straggling 
followed. 

At five o'clock on the 16th, with clear weather, the column 
was again off, freshened after a night's good rest. At 6.30 




Lieut. Sam'l N. Lewis. 



— 285 — 

a. m. it passed through Burketsville, and by 9.15 a. m. was in 
camp at Petersville, within a short distance of the Potomac, 
and there was rest and leisure for the balance of the day. The 
wagon trains made their appearance for the first time since be- 
fore Gettysburg. During the night it rained again severely. 

On the 17th it was still raining. The bi-monthly muster for 
pay, forced off by the heavy pressure incident to the Gettys- 
burg preliminaries, was completed. Moving at four in the after- 
noon to Berlin, and crossing the Potomac on pontoons laid at 
that point at 5.50, the regiment was again in old Virginia, and 
at 6.45 in camp at Lovettsville. 

Some venomous spirit prompted retaliatory measures for 
wrongs done in Pennsylvania. Threats were made to destroy 
the village. General Griffin checked the affair in its incipiency, 
preventing a disgraceful scene of sack and pillage. 

Lieutenant Batchelder.who had been ill for some days, here be- 
came so seriously sick that it was found necessary to leave him. 
Comfortable quarters were found for him, where he was well 
and tenderly cared for. His health completely failed him, 
and he was honorably discharged in the following November. 
Subsequent to the war he fully recovered and is now in vigorous 
health and prosperous business. 

Batchelder was of firm determination and high courage; 
earnest, zealous, patriotic. His record was bright; his pros- 
pects promising. Steady, reliable, respected, trusted, the va- 
cancy caused by his loss to the service was not readily sup- 
plied. 

On the 1 8th it cleared and at five o'clock the march com- 
menced, terminating as early as 9.30, some three miles from 
Purcellville. 

The irregularities at Lovettsville the chaplain thought de- 
manded clerical condemnation, and he held a special service 
with that in view, taking for his text, " For I also am a man 
set under authority, having under me soldiers ; and I say unto 
one, go, and he goeth ; and to another, come, and he cometh." 
He dwelt vehemently on vandalism. Some of the facetious 



— 286 — 

construed his selection as having especial reference to the frus- 
trated intention of " going for the rebel property." 

On the 19th, a clear, warm day, the march began, the brigade 
being the rear brigade of the rear division of the corps, at 8.45, 
and, passing through Purcellville at 10.45, tne regiment biv- 
ouacked in the woods a short distance beyond that village a 
little before noon. 

Here an order was received directing the detail of three 
commissioned officers and a number of enlisted men to proceed 
to Philadelphia to secure for the regiment its proper quota of 
drafted men from the conscription then in progress in the 
North. 

On the 20th it was still clear and the day decidedly hot. 
Reveille sounded at two o'clock and the brigade moved at five, 
passed through Union and bivouacked shortly after noon be- 
tween Middleburg and Upperville, where it remained during 
all of the following day. • 

On the 22d, at nine o'clock, Colonel Gwyn, Captain O'Neill, 
Adjutant Hand and six enlisted men, including 1st Sergeant 
Crossley, of H, left for Philadelphia, in obedience to directions to 
procure for the regiment its proper quota of conscript assign- 
ments. The command of the regiment devolved upon Major 
Herring. 

The forty-eight hours' rest was broken and at noon the 
march resumed. It terminated at five in the afternoon in the 
vicinity of Rectortown. 

The 23d, a clear, fresh morning, when the march began at 
seven o'clock, closed in more stirring scenes than had enlivened 
the few days preceding it. The 3d Corps, pushed close up to 
the base of the Blue Ridge, near Manassas Gap, had struck the 
enemy atWapping Heights. The 5th Corps, ordered to follow 
in support, reached the vicinity of the action about half-past four 
in the afternoon. Forming line of masses with battalions 
doubled on the centre, the brigade experienced the rare oppor- 
tunity of observing an engagement entirely out of range and 
without participating. 



— 287 — 

The country rolled abruptly. Knolls, some more command- 
ing than others, descended suddenly into the swale and then 
rose again. There was no timber until the westernmost valley 
terminated finally at the base of the wooded mountain side. 
From where the brigade took position knoll and swale, 
green and grassy, were all in complete view to their timber 
terminal. 

The enemy, his line partially concealed, held the first rise on 
the mountains and our forces occupied a parallel knobby 
crest. Both skirmish lines were in the valley. Each was 
firing with marked deliberation, and from the other side the 
artillery, served with slow regularity, was planting its shots 
with creditable accuracy. Our lines repeatedly advanced over 
the skirmishers, under cover of the batteries, and pouring in 
telling volleys of musketry withdrew again to their position. 
The enemy had been driven to the defensive position he held 
on the mountain side, and the tactics of advancing and with- 
drawing, which continued until nightfall, indicated that there 
was no determined purpose to force him out, as it was believed 
that he would retire in the darkness. This he did. 

As the regiment was moving towards the scene of the en- 
gagement it passed through the Keystone Battery of Philadel- 
phia. The men were standing by their guns ready for action. 
The battery had enlisted for a year ; its term was drawing to a 
close, and as up to this time it had not been in action, there 
was a manifest anxiety to engage 

There were many mutual acquaintances in both organiza- 
tions. An incident was told in the interval of the short halt 
in their vicinity illustrative of how a little delay changed the 
whole phase of their service, and of their disappointment at the 
loss of the opportunity for distinction which resulted. With 
many other batteries they were in park in the vicinity of Centre - 
ville, when the Army of the Potomac reached that point on its 
march to Pennsylvania. Ordered to join the Reserve Artillery, 
they were making hurried preparations to do so, when, in defer- 
ence to the wishes of a general officer of the 2d Corps, they 



— 288 — 

delayed a short time to accommodate him in the transportation 
of some of his private stores, he having no means at hand of 
his own to carry them. The delay was fatal. Their want of 
promptitude so annoyed the chief of artillery, as his batteries 
were all on the move, that he substituted Bigelow's 9th Massa- 
chusetts Battery in their stead, and they were returned tempo- 
rarily to the defences of Washington and did not reach the 
Army of the Potomac until Gettysburg was over. They thus 
escaped the peril and failed to share in the glories of Bigelow's 
desperate encounter on the second day at Gettysburg, that has 
made him and his battery famous for all time. 

On the 24th, at seven o'clock, the brigade moved up the 
ragged mountain side by the " right of divisions to the front," 
in support of the 2d and 3d Brigades, which were in line in 
advance. The hill Reflected but little from a perpendicular. 
Overhanging crags, huge boulders, a thick growth of stunted 
forest trees, dense underbrush, lined the hillside to its summit. 
There was no enemy to check the advance and progress was 
alone impeded by the frowning crags, the rough stones, the 
sharp, protruding limbs and the heavy undergrowth. The 
grandeur of the picturesque Shenandoah Valley bursting into 
view from the summit compensated for the toilsome ascent. 
There it lay, its war scars scarce noticeable, still rich in ver- 
dure, with its towns here, its villages there, its homes once 
prosperous, its granaries still plentiful, its broad, shining river, 
its lands undulating, prolific, broadening and narrowing as the 
stern, majestic Appalachians prominently shaped the marked 
irregularities of its western boundaries. 

The men were hungry; but the rations were exhausted and 
the mountain top was rich in an unusual yield of luscious black- 
berries. The attractive scenery was neglected, and craving 
appetites appeased from the bountiful supply of fruit, sufficient 
in quantity to satisfy all existing wants. 

At noon the division returned down the mountain and went 
into bivouac about a mile, from its base. 

Reveille was sounded at four o'clock on the 25th and the 



— 289 



march began at 7.30, with the 1st Brigade as rear-guard. It 
terminated at 5.20 in the afternoon at Orleans. Here two days' 
rations were issued. It was a clear, warm day, but rained hard 
during the night. 

On Sunday, the 26th, it was clear and hot. The division 
marched at 5.30 A. m., with the 3d Brigade leading, and biv- 
ouacked, after a few hours' march, upon a hillside, with no 
shade, in an intense noonday heat, in the vicinity of Warrenton. 
The chaplain preached from the text : " He that hath no rule 

over his own spirit is like 
a city that is broken down 
and without walls ; " the 
last verse of Proverbs xxv. 
On the 27th, moving 
at five o'clock, the regi- 
ment halted at 9.15 a. 
m., some three miles 
beyond Warrenton, in 
the direction of Fay- 
etteville. An unseasona- 
ble inactivity followed. 
In this vicinity the camps 
retained an unusual sum- 
mer permanency. 
sergeant alfred layman. Th e campaign which 

culminated in the battle of Gettysburg and which terminated 
in march and pursuit at Warrenton or in its vicinity,, 
virtually began on the 5th of June and concluded on the 
31st of July. In the official itinerary of the Army of 
the Potomac it is noted that, beside the great battle itself, 
there were during the marches that preceded and followed it, 
at separate points, between those dates, 107 different engage- 
ments, combats, actions and affairs at arms. Twice in every 
fifteen hours of the summer daylight throughout that campaign 
shots by somebody, somewhere between the Rappahannock 
and the Susquehanna, were exchanged with deadly intent. 
19 




CHAPTER XL 

AROUND WARRENTON — BEVERLY FORD — EXECUTION OF FIVE 
DESERTERS. 

THE termination, of the nearly sixty days of arduous duty 
attending the Gettysburg campaign was followed by a 
short season of "liberty." There were several days of mirth- 
provoking hilarity. The best and brightest spirits drifted into 
the volunteer army, and genial humor and sparkling wit were 
never wanting. Though liberal potations stimulated the merry- 
making, good order prevailed and the " liberty" days closed in 
peace and harmony in due and timely season. 

On the 3 ist of July Captain Sharwood was detailed as acting 
brigade commissary. Orders were received to move on the fol- 
lowing day, but it passed uneventfully with the regiment still 
occupying the camp-ground described in the last chapter. 

Deprived, during the very active season which had just 
closed, of the observance of many of the requisite military for- 
malities, Sunday morning inspections were at once resumed, 
and were usually conducted in person by Major Herring. A 
humorous incident occurred at one of these inspections. Ser- 
geant Andrew Cassidy, of H, had not been over-cautious in 
examining his cartridge box before coming upon the inspection 
ground. Some one had, without his knowledge, substituted 
for the tins and ammunition in it a full deck of cards. The 
inspection progressed satisfactorily until the command " open 
boxes " was given. Noticing the absence of the tins, the major 
looked farther and discovered the cards. " How many have 
you, Sergeant?" he pertinently inquired. " Sixty, sir," promptly 
replied the sergeant. " Wrong, sir; I count but fifty-two. Cap- 

(290) 



— 291 — 

tain, you will direct the sergeant to report to head-quarters to 
account for the deficiency." The sergeant, much mystified, re- 
mained in ignorance of the situation until he returned to his 
•quarters and had opportunity to examine for himself. When 
he reported to head-quarters he had recovered his boxes and 
properly accounted for all the missing cartridges. A word of 
caution was administered not to permit himself to be again 
tampered with by a practical joker. 

The orders for the movement intended to be executed on 
the 1st were carried out on the 3d of August. The camp was 
broken at six o'clock p. m. by the bugle signal from division 
head-quarters. It so happened the division head-quarters were 
located in full view from most of the regimental camps. The 
order to move had been promulgated, and the troops only 
awaited the sound of the " general " for final preparations. 
Head-quarter tents were down and everything packed up in the 
vicinity, but the bugler was disposed to be a trifle humorous. 
He came out, planted himself conspicuously and mildly blew 
the few sharp notes of the " division call." Usually another 
call of some sort followed instantly after the last note had died 
away. Our facetious trumpeter would not have it so. He 
stood erect, with shoulders square, heels together, unusual for 
a mounted man, and with a calm assurance of his immense im- 
portance, knowing he was intently observed, deliberately sur- 
veyed the anxiously waiting assemblage. Then, as if deter- 
mined to continue their expectancy, he slowly wiped the mouth- 
piece, pressed the instrument to his lips, distended his ponderous 
jowls, and without sounding the faintest note removed it, and 
doubled himself up with laughter. This he had all to himself; 
nobody laughed with him; a few did at him. The same opera- 
tion he again and again repeated, each time his laughter be- 
coming louder and more extravagant. Finally, either con- 
cluding his efforts to entertain were not appreciated or wearying 
of an effort that amused only himself, he straightened himself, 
and the " general " rang out full, clear, and free. A derisive 
yell followed the first note, and the disgusted bugler hunted 



— 292 — 

obscurity amid shouts of" shoot him," " stuff rags in his horn," 
" put him out," " tramp on him," and many like uncharitable 
phrases. 

After a light evening stroll of a couple of hours, a bivouac 
was made about nine o'clock near Bealton Station. 

Afterwards the regiment moved a short .distance and, breaking 
into column of companies, established a camp with more regu- 
larity than usually attends the nightly halts between daily 
continuous marches. To the southward, artillery firing was 
heard for several hours. The tardy paymaster appeared, and 
gladdened the soldiery by a distribution of greenbacks. 

Captain O'Neill and Adjutant Hand returned with one hun- 
dred and nine drafted men and substitutes. The quota allotted 
was one hundred and fifty-nine, and with that number they had 
started from Philadelphia. Fifty, however, had eluded their 
vigilant attention and disappeared on the route. This was not 
unusual. Scarcely any detachment of recruits of such a char- 
acter ever reached the front without seriously suffering from 
desertion. Occasionally the guard, catching them in the act, 
upon their refusal to surrender shot them as they attempted 
escape to friendly timber, or jumped from ferry boats crossing 
rivers. This latter method of escape, in the darkness of night, 
was frequently resorted to. It was questionable whether the 
wholesale desertion of substitutes — the evil was confined almost 
exclusively to them — did not almost make the conscript system 
a failure. 

A few of these substitutes, stout, well-built fellows, were dis- 
posed to be independent and presuming, claiming to have been 
once captains and lieutenants, and one actually assumed the 
dignity of an aforetime brigade commander. They presumptu- 
ously addressed each other by titles indicating their former rank, 
and would not be suppressed until severely disciplined. A little 
training dissipated these extravagant notions, and most of the 
detachment were ultimately shaped into tolerably good, and 
some became excellent soldiers. 

Among the drafted men, so consistent in their conscientious 



— 293 



•convictions against fighting that they would not purchase sub- 
stitutes to fight for them, were five Pennsylvania Quakers. 
They were submissive and obedient, ready in the discharge of 
every duty, but still, consistent in their convictions, positively 
refused to " bear arms." Lacking nothing in courage or en- 
durance, they expressed entire willingness to march and go into 
battle, but utterly declined to be instructed in the use of the 

musket. Force and 
persuasion were of no 
avail, and the reasons 
for their refusal ap- 
pearing to be wholly 
in their consciences, 
the War Department 
ultimately ordered 
their discharge. 

O'Neill and Hand 
were directed to sim- 
ply deliver the re- 
cruits placed in their 
keeping, and then re- 
turn to the rendez- 
vous at Philadelphia. 
They were not slow 
in responding to the 
latter part of their 
instructions, and commenced their return journey on the night 
of the day of their arrival. 

A high wind and heavy rain demolished all the arbors erected 
to break the intense heat. They were no longer needed, how- 
ever, as an early daylight move and short march brought the 
regiment to another camping ground near Beverly Ford, within 
half a mile of the Rappahannock. Here the regiment remained 
for a considerable time. 

The entire month of August was a season of intense, ener- 
vating heat, breeding swarms of pestering insects and con- 




SERGEANT ALFRED MACQUEEN. 



— 294 — 

ducive, in the lowlands along the river bottom, to frequent 
malarial disorders. To counteract these unhealthy surround- 
ings there were occasional issues of quinine steeped in liberal 
allowances of whisky. This medicinal stimulant was a cheering 
beverage to appetites measurably restrained from the use of 
liquors for want of means and opportunity to secure a supply. 
There were those, however, who, stolidly fixed in their prin- 
ciples of total abstinence, would pour their ration upon the 
ground in the presence of their companions, much to the dis- 
gust of many who were convinced it could be devoted to a de- 
cidedly better purpose. 

A captain of the regiment, in a venturesome mood whilst 
bathing in the Rappahannock, swam the stream, and without 
stopping undertook to return. His temerity came near having a 
tragic ending. When midway back he was seized with violent 
cramps and lustily called for help. He manifested, though, no 
such panic or alarm as did his friends who stood upon the 
bank. They seemed to lose their heads. One frantically 
seized a fence-rail and pushed it toward him. It failed to 
reach him. All seemed to fear his grip. In his shouting he 
had told the cause of his trouble. He was fast becoming ex- 
hausted and was about to give up when Lieutenant Arthur Bell, 
of the 155th Pennsylvania, who was the most self-possessed of 
all those who watched the scene, hurriedly divesting himself of 
his outer garments, heroically plunged into the stream and 
struck out manfully to the discomfited swimmer, all the while 
calling to him to keep up — that help was at hand. The cap- 
tain feebly called to him to come close — that he would not 
grasp him ; and, placing his hands upon Bell's shoulder, was 
safely brought ashore. Bell's heroism was applauded, and his 
generous gallantry was long the theme of appropriate com- 
ment. The captain soon recovered from his exhaustion and, 
profiting by his experience, was afterwards a more cautious 
bather. 

Five of the men who had eluded O'Neill's vigilance were 
subsequently apprehended in attempting to recross the Poto- 



— 295 — 

mac. They had enlisted under the names of Charles Walter, 
Gion Reanese, Emil Lai, Gion Folaney and George Kuhn. 
They were all foreigners, unacquainted with the English lan- 
guage except one. Two were Roman Catholics, another a 
Hebrew, and the others, if of any faith, were Protestants. 

Assigned to the regiment, they had never joined it and were 
wholly unknown to it. Charged with a crime, conviction for 
which was likely to be followed by capital punishment, they 
were sent to the regiment only as a forum where judicial cog- 
nizance could be taken of their offence. In fact conviction, 
followed by any of the punishments usually inflicted for deser- 
tion, would have connected them with the regiment only as 
prisoners awaiting trial or as criminals awaiting approval and 
execution of their sentences. They had, therefore, been 
thrown into an organization where they were entire strangers 
and which had with them neither friendship, memories nor as- 
sociations, and as they had come there as prisoners only for 
the stern administration of military justice, they could look for 
little sympathy. 

Desertions, bounty-jumping and re-enlistment had followed 
each other with such alarming frequency that the death penalty 
became necessary as the surest method to prevent their recur- 
rence. Except for desertion to the enemy, capital punishment 
was rarely, if ever, inflicted. The authorities, having determined, 
if possible, to eradicate the shameful practice of bounty-jumping, 
had instructed courts-martial in all well-established cases, upon 
conviction, to impose the severest penalty known to the law. 
This failing to entirely remove the evil, and " to be shot to 
death by musketry " being deemed too honorable a death for 
such abandoned characters, the mode of execution was subse- 
quently changed to the rope and the gallows. 

Tempted by the very extravagant sums paid for substitutes 
and the large bounties offered by district organizations to com- 
plete their allotted quotas and thus avoid a draft, large num- 
bers from the worst classes of the community entered the ser- 
vice. A large proportion never reached the army. 



— 296 — 

The court which tried these five offenders was presided over 
by Colonel Joseph Hayes, 18th Massachusetts Volunteers, and 
convened, pursuant to General Order No. 35, of August 15, 
1863, at head-quarters, 2d Brigade, 1st Division, 5th Corps. 
The numbers arraigned, the frequency of the crime, the ex- 
pected severity of the sentence, attracted the attention of 
the whole Army of the Potomac. Besides, it was almost the 
first, if not the first, of this class of cases, and was given un- 
usual publicity, officially and otherwise. The prisoners were 
all found guilty and sentenced to be shot. The order, fixing 
the time of the execution as Wednesday, the 26th of August, 
between the hours of 12 m. and 4 p. m.,* reached the regiment 
on the 24th, and was at once published to the prisoners by 
Major Herring, in the presence of the chaplain, through the 
aid of an interpreter. The difficulty in securing the services 
of a priest and rabbi, who came specially from their Northern 
homes, induced a respite until Saturday, the 29th, between the 
same hours. On the day following the announcement of 
their sentence they addressed a communication to General 
Meade, craving a merciful reconsideration of the punishment 
imposed. It was the composition and in the handwriting of 
one of them, and read as follows : 

" Beverly Ford, Va., August 25, 1863. 
■"Major-General Meade: 

" General : — We, the prisoners, implore your mercy in our behalf for the ex- 
tension of our sentence, so that we may have time to make preparations to meet 
our God; for we, at the present time, are unprepared to die. Our time is very 

/ * Head-quarters Army of the Potomac, 
I August 23, 1863. 

General Orders No. 84. 

These men evidently belonged to that class who are trading upon 

the necessities of the country and have embraced enlistment with a view to de- 
sertion for the purpose of gain. It is hoped the prompt punishment awarded to 
their crimes will have the effect to deter others from attempting a like criminal 
and dishonorable course of conduct, as the commanding general will unhesitat- 
ingly punish all such cases with the severest penalties of the law. This order 
will be published to every company in this army at the first retreat parade after its 
receipt. By order of General Meade. 



— 297 — 

short. Two of us are Roman Catholics ; we have no priest, and two are Pro- 
testants, and one is a Jew and has no rabbi to assist us in preparing to meet our 
God. And we ask mercy in behalf of our wives and children, and we also de- 
sire you to change our sentence to hard labor instead of death, as we think we 
have been wrongfully sentenced ; as we, being foreigners, were led astray by 
other soldiers, who promised us there would be no harm done. 

" Your obedient servants, " Charles Walter, 

" Gion Reanese, 
" Emil Lai, 
" Gion Folaney, 
" George Kuhn." 

The death penalty having been announced, the guard was 
strengthened, and every movement of the condemned men 
closely and carefully watched. An exhaustive search was 
made for everything that might be employed to commit sui- 
cide. Captain Crocker was placed in charge of the guard, and 
Lieutenants Lewis, Bayne and Thomas were assigned to duty 
with him. Four men inside and four outside the place of con- 
finement were continually on duty. 

Lewis conducted the search. He took a pocket-book from 
the Hebrew, who pleaded earnestly for its return. Lewis, 
yielding to his entreaties, was about returning it without ex- 
amination, when Major Herring, who had supervised the 
operation, promptly directed him not to do so until he had 
carefully examined its contents. Concealed in its folds was a 
lancet. The Jew had not observed the examination, and when 
the pocket-book was handed him his countenance lightened, 
and, nervously clutching it, he began to search it closely. 
Discovering that the lancet had been removed, his countenance 
fell again, and, handing back the book to Lewis, he mournfully 
remarked through the interpreter, who had repeated all that 
had been said, that he had no further use for it and any one 
was free to retain it. 

From the time of the publication of the order until the day 
of the execution not a soldier was permitted to leave the regi- 
mental camp limits, nor were visitors allowed to enter them. 
All military exercises and camp duties were performed decor- 
ously and quietly. An order was issued forbidding noise and 



— 298 — 

levity, but it was needless ; the awfulness and solemnity of the 
coming event pervaded every heart. 

It may seem strange to some that men who could shoot at 
others in battle without compunction should feel so serious 
about the fate of five deserters. It is one thing when soldiers 
with heated blood and inflamed passions, face to face and hand 
to hand in fierce conflict, inflict horrid wounds or death upon 
others. It is a very different thing to look forward to a scene 
in which men are to be done quietly to death without any of 
the circumstances which rob war of half its terrors and hide its 
real character. 

The day of the execution was bright, clear and cool. The 
site selected was the further end of a plain, in rear of the 
head-quarters of the 2d Brigade. The plain was sufficient in 
extent to accommodate the entire corps with each division de- 
ployed in line of masses, battalions doubled on the centre, on 
three sides of a hollow square. From the open front to the 
rear the ground gradually rose, bringing the final scene of the 
tragedy in full view of all the soldiery. 

The morning was busy with preparation. Twenty men, un- 
der Sergeant H. T. Peck, were detailed to bear the coffins, and 
ten pioneers, with spades and hatchets, under Sergeant Mose- 
lander, were charged with filling the graves and closing the 
coffins. Captain Crocker, to .whom was assigned Lieutenant 
Wilson, commanded the guard of thirty men. 

Father S. L. Eagan, the Catholic priest, had arrived from 
Baltimore the afternoon before, and with Chaplain O'Neill had 
spent the night ministering religious consolation to those of 
the prisoners whose faiths they represented. The Jewish rabbi, 
Dr. Zould, did not arrive until shortly before noon of the day 
of the execution. 

The prisoners, clothed in blue trousers and white flannel shirts, 
accompanied by the clergymen, the escort guard and detail, 
were marched a little after twelve o'clock to a house in the 
vicinity of the 2d Brigade's head-quarters to report to Captain 
Orne, the division provost-marshal, and there await the forma- 
tion of the corps. 



— 299 — 

The troops assembled slowly. The ist and 2d Divisions 
were in position, occupying the second and fourth fronts of the 
square, when at three o'clock, without awaiting the arrival of 
the 3d, which subsequently hurried into its place, the solemn 
procession entered the enclosure on the right of the second 
front. On the right was the band, then followed Captain 
Orne, the provost-marshal, with fifty men of his guard, ten to 
each prisoner, as the executioners. Then there were two cof- 
fins, borne by four men each, and in their rear the condemned 
Hebrew with his rabbi. At a suggestion from Major Herring,, 
the one representing the most ancient of religious creeds was 
assigned the right. Other coffins, each borne by four men and 
followed by the prisoners and the priest and chaplain, brought 
up the column of the condemned. The prisoners were all 
manacleqj. Four of them bore themselves manfully, moved 
steadily and stepped firmly. One, with weak and tottering 
gait, dragged himself along with difficulty, requiring support: 
to maintain his footing. Captain Crocker, with his escort of 
thirty men, closed up the rear. 

The procession moved slowly ; the guards, with reversed 
arms, keeping step to the mournful notes of the dead march. 
The silence was broken only by the low, doleful music, the 
whispered words of consolation of the men of God and the 
deliberate martial tread of the soldiers. 

The column, with the same slow, impressive pace, moved 
around the three fronts of the square and, halting at the first 
or open front, faced outward. The five coffins were placed op- 
posite the foot of five new-made graves and a prisoner seated 
upon each. The provost-guard, subdivided into detachments 
of ten, with loaded pieces, faced their prisoners thirty paces 
from them.* 

The provost-marshal read the orders directing the execution. 

*The pieces are not loaded by those who bear them, and one in each of the 
ten is charged with a blank cartridge. None of the firing party is supposed to 
know who discharged the musket loaded without ball, and, as a consequence^ 
none know who actually fired the fatal shots. 



— 30° — 

The minister, the priest and the rabbi engaged in earnest, fer- 
vent prayer. Time grew apace, and the hour within which 
this work of death must be consummated was rapidly ex- 
piring. General Griffin, who, annoyed from the beginning 
with unnecessary delays, had anxiously noted the waning 
hours, observed that but fifteen minutes were left for the com- 
pletion of what remained to be done. In loud tones, his shrill, 
penetrating voice breaking the silence, he called to Captain 
Orne : " Shoot those men, or after ten minutes it will be mur- 
der. Shoot them at once! " 

To many and many of the thousands of those assembled 
there, there will but once more come so solemn a moment — 
the moment when death nears them. 

With a few parting words of hope and consolation, the clergy 
stood aside. Lieutenant Wilson quickly bandaged tlge eyes of 
the prisoners, and they — though in the full vigor of life and 
health — were literally upon the very brink of the grave. 

The terrible suspense was but for a moment. "Attention, 
guard ! " resounded the clear, ringing voice of the provost- 
marshal. " Shoulder arms ! " " Forward ! " " Guide right ! " 
" March ! " Every tread of the guard fell upon the stilled 
hearts of the motionless army. Twenty-five paces were 
quickly covered. At six paces from the prisoners with 
appropriate pause and stern deliberation the command was 
given: "Halt!" "ready!" "aim!" "fire!" Simultaneously 
fifty muskets flashed. Military justice' was satisfied and the 
law avenged. 

Four bodies fell back heavily with a solid thud; the fifth re- 
mained erect. " Inspection arms ! " hurriedly ordered Cap- 
tain Orne, and every ramrod sprang in ringing tones upon 
the breech. No soldier had failed of his duty, every musket 
had been discharged. Pistol in hand the provost-marshal 
moved to the figure which still sat erect upon the coffin 
(for it was his disagreeable duty to despatch the culprit if the 
musketry failed); but Surgeon Thomas had pronounced life ex- 
tinct, and the body was laid upon the ground with the others. 



— 3°i — 




— 30 2 — 

The masses changed direction by the left flank, and amid the 
enlivening notes of " The Girl I Left Behind Me " broke into 
open column of companies, and marching by the bodies to see 
that the work of the executioner had been effectually done, the 
troops were soon back to their camps again.* 

The bright, generous summer-time, and the unusual leisure 
at such a season, prompted an indulgence in various sports 

* Captain H. K. Kelly furnishes the following amusing incident : Some very 
curious characters were found among the drafted men and substitutes furnished to 
the regiment. They presented an element entirely different from the patriotic 
volunteer, of which the regiment was originally formed. They required a dif- 
ferent study of human nature and a very different treatment. This can be under- 
stood even by those who have never exercised command in the army. In requir- 
ing from the volunteer strict obedience and conformity to all the requirements of 
the service, it could not be forgotten that he was an American citizen. 

Among the drafted men in one of the companies was a very curious specimen. 
He was a member of a sect that wore long hair, who believed in universal peace 
and abhorred blood-shedding, and entertained various other mild and gentle dog- 
mas, pretty to contemplate in an Utopia, but utterly unsuited to the suppression 
of a rebellion organized with English shot and shell. This " soldier against his 
will " had witnessed the execution of the five deserters, and the sight had doubt- 
less affected his mind unfavorably toward a little scheme of "dropping out," 
which he probably had in contemplation. At all events, he concluded that it would 
be safer and more polite, as well as more in accordance with military usage, to tender 
his resignation. Accordingly, still mindful of etiquette, he addressed the first 
sergeant of the company a note, of which the following is a copy : 

" Sergeant : — Please report me to the propper othorities that I do lay down 
my arms, feeling myself entirely unfit for duty on account of my health, and also 
contientiousty pledged to my church not to take up arms to kill. 

" I am willing to suffer the penalty that good Old Abe will inflict upon me. 
" Yours truly ." 

The sergeant, being a military man of decided views, promptly forwarded the 
paper to the officer in command of the company. The private was sent for, the 
officer under a grave face which he had some difficulty in maintaining, and was 
asked a few questions as to whether he acknowledged authorship of the letter ; 
whether he had not been impressed by the tragic scene of execution he had wit- 
nessed, and then, with some good advice as to duty, etc., the soldier was sent 
back to his tent, warned to so watch over his actions that a worse thing than being 
shot by a rebel did not befall him. His career, however, was short, for on the 
first day's fight in the Wilderness he was gathered in as a prisoner of war, not be- 
fore his company commander had seen the man repeatedly violating the pledge to 
his church so far as shooting often and taking care to fire low could be construed 
into killing. 



— 3°3 — 

and exercises, notably horse-racing. Some valuable, blooded 
stock had found its way to the front, and when ridden by their 
owners an exciting race frequently drew together a notable 
assemblage of officers of high rank. General Griffin had a 
mare, noted for its speed, of superior build and excellent car- 
riage. There were often appreciative gatherings at his head- 
quarters, when he was tempted by repeated challenges to test 
the metal of his splendid animal. Other steeds were of equal 
reputation, however, and, regardless of the distinguished rank 
of the owner of this noted war-horse, not infrequently out- 
stripped her in the strife. 

Captain Crocker, anticipating a lengthy stay, built for him- 
self a house of logs chinked and mortised, with boards for 
floors and a sash with panes for the window. This structure, 
pretentious beyond remembrance for a soldier's summer home, 
must need be dedicated. It had been christened " The Haver- 
sack." So Crocker summoned all the congenial spirits around 
him, and purposed with due decorum and fitting ceremony to 
open his mansion for the uses, purposes and intents of its con- 
struction. He had laid in lavishly of " beer on draft " right 
from the National capital, and there was abundance of edibles 
from the small stores of the mess-chest. But his guests had 
assembled not to satisfy appetites craving to be appeased with 
substantiate, nor were they to be hampered with the stilted 
ceremonies of a dedication. Beer from the keg was so rare a 
treat that these men of war, forgetful of the purpose of their 
coming, crowned Gambrinus king again. They set the mor- 
tised joints ajar with merriment, and loosened chinks and ridge 
pole with their boisterous, unrestrained hilarity. Song, loud 
and sonorous, rang wild and long. 

" In eighteen hundred and sixty-three — 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
In eighteen hundred and sixty-three — 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
In eighteen hundred and sixty-three 
Abe Lincoln set the niggers free — 
And we'll all drink stone blind, 
Johnny fill up the bowl." 



— 304 - 

This was sung in tedious repetition until at last its strains 
ebbed away in sleepy languor. " Here's to Crocker and his 
house " was more than twenty times repeated. In imitation of 
a sitting at home, imaginary waiters were merrily sun\moned 
for "four beers," "two here," " zwi," "beers all around," and 
they apparently promptly filled the order. The festivities con- 
tinued while the beer lasted, and " The dedication of the Hav- 
ersack " was long remembered as a day of goodly ceremony. 
" Quarters" and " light duty" was the record made for some 
when the morning's duties summoned them, but the stalwart 
ones responded promptly, undisturbed by bodily or mental 
ailment. 

While in the vicinity of Beverly Ford the picket details were 
heavy, and the scope of territory covered was considerable. 
Nor did the brigade details always occupy the same line. At 
one time they were protecting and observing the river front. 
At another they were thrown off to the left a mile or so across 
country, reaching the Orange and Alexandria Railway and con- 
necting with those of other corps beyond. The ubiquitous 
Moseby had manifested an alarming activity. Other guerilla 
bands and bodies of regular cavalry had given evidence of their 
presence. Much of the army lay well off from the railway, and 
huge supply trains, continually in motion, tempted the cupidity 
of these rapacious raiders. The outer lines were consequently 
made unusually strong. 

On one of these three days' tours — the distance from camp 
necessarily lengthened the term — Captain Donegan and Lieu- 
tenant Kelly were on duty together. An odd irregularity 
befell Donegan, and an amusing incident growing out of it hap- 
pened to Kelly. Donegan was in command of the entire di- 
vision picket by virtue of his rank. Assigned to cross-country 
duty, his left was to be refused, his right was to rest on the 
river. Establishing his right, by some oversight he threw the 
1st Brigade detail so far out of position as to bring it well inside 
the true line. The other brigade details arriving on the ground 
and Donegan not having yet had opportunity to post them, 



— 305 — 

they, discovering a wide gap between their right and the river, 
extended their intervals and closed it. The captain shortly 
became acquainted with the situation, but apparently satisfied it 
would not be detected, and believing it not worth while to dis- 
turb the posts, now comfortably fixed for the three days' work, 
permitted the error to continue, keeping both the outer and 
interior lines in ignorance of their relative locations. This 
ignorance continued until after the tour was completed, and no 
one would ever have known aught of it if Kelly had kept 
silence concerning his amusing incident. Donegan never in- 
tended to disclose the irregularity. 

Kelly confined himself closely to his own line and ensconced 
himself, when at leisure, in the parlor of a vacant mansion hard 
by his right centre. He quaintly posted on the door his pre- 
scribed " office hours," and closely observed them. A number 
of new men were of the detail. Kelly, unusually busy with in- 
structing these men, having succeeded in making them fairly 
understand, had just relaxed his vigilance when General Sykes, 
with his staff, appeared on the line, approaching it from the 
outside, in front of where it was covered by these recruits. He 
had finished a tour of inspection of his entire corps pickets, 
and was returning to his head-quarters when he was suddenly 
confronted and abruptly halted by this improperly posted 
and to him wholly unknown interior line. 

" Who goes there ? " harshly came from the post toward 
which he was advancing, and the man holding it stood ready 
to meet the emergency. " I am General Sykes," said he quietly. 
" I don't care a d — n who you are," was the prompt response • 
" dismount, every one of you, and be lively about it, too." The 
general, somewhat incensed, threw open his overcoat and, 
pointing to his shoulder-straps, said, sharply, " Now do you 
know me?" " No," again insisted the soldier, "get down off 
that horse d — n quick, or I'll put a ball through you." Seeing 
no other way out of the dilemma the general and his staff dis- 
mounted. His anger was increasing, he was berating the 
ignorance of men in their failure to recognize a corps com- 
20 



— 3° 6 — 

mander who for several months had been among them almost 
daily, when the adjoining post, concealed by the timber, in- 
censed him beyond endurance by a new line of inquiry : "Hello, 
Billy," said the other vedette, " what kind of a looking fellow 
is he ? has he got big black whiskers ? " " Yes," said Billy. 
" Then hold the : you've got Moseby ; call for the cor- 
poral of the guard." This Billy did lustily, and he, hurriedly 
coming upon the scene and recognizing the general, ordered 
him to be passed immediately. " Who and where is your 
officer?" demanded Sykes, and he was immediately conducted 
to Lieutenant Kelly's quarters, who, notwithstanding it was not 
his " office hours," most graciously received him. " What in the 

name of are you doing here?" he asked. The inquiry 

of course referred to the position of the line. Kelly, wholly 
innocent that he was heroically maintaining an interior picket, 
had no other notion than that the general's interrogation was 
intended to stand him up for examination on his instructions, 
and in a vain attempt to display his proficiency he fluently 
replied, " To arrest all persons outside the lines, to be watchful 
during the day, and extremely vigilant at night; to keep a 
sharp lookout after Moseby and other guerillas ; treat all per- 
sons outside the lines as enemies," and so he continued, the 
general's astonishment increasing as he proceded. For a mo- 
ment General Sykes remained speechless, his staff meanwhile 
indulging in suppressed laughter, and then, too disgusted for 
other comment than " Great Heavens ! what infernal stupidity ! " 
rapidly rode away. Lieutenant Kelly, slightly amazed at the 
risibility and indifference with which his pretty speech was re- 
ceived, in no way conceived that the lamentable ignorance to 
which the general so energetically referred was attributed to 
him, nor did he learn how " infernally stupid" he was until he 
returned to camp and related his experiences. As no disaster 
followed Donegan's inadvertence, and as General Sykes upon 
reflection was probably more amused than annoyed at the inci- 
dent, the matter was never investigated. 

An unjust impression had gone abroad that General Sykes 



— 307 — 

had no kindly side toward the volunteers. It gained credence 
from his apparent association with the regulars alone. On 
the march he was generally seen riding with them, and in 
camp and bivouac his head-quarters were usually nearest 
them. By reason of these unfounded prejudices, though he 
had the merited confidence of the corps, he never secured 
their affections. He was ever mindful of the needs of his 
soldiers, and his recognized skill, ability, high attainments, 
eminent courage and soldierly bearing fitted him for the leader- 
ship which he so successfully maintained. Because he seemed 
to fail to reach the hearts of his people, they would never ad- 
mit that he was likely to be enrolled among the great men of 
his day. 

The brigade had come to know Colonel Hayes, of the 18th 
Massachusetts, from the frequency with which at intervals its 
command fell to his keeping. He was a man of culture and 
address, a soldier of distinction, well calculated to sustain the 
splendid reputation of the sturdy men whom the New England 
States so wisely selected to officer their volunteers. 

From the 4th of August to the 16th of September the regi- 
ment had remained continuously at the same camp near Beverly 
Ford. On that day it broke camp, crossed the Rappahannock 
and bivouacked in the vicinity of Culpepper Court-House. The 
next day it moved through Culpepper and encamped a short 
distance beyond it, near the residence of Colonel George Smith 
Patton, the colonel of the 22d Virginia Infantry. Here it was 
destined to remain for several weeks. The 1st Michigan and 
1 8th Massachusetts were detached from the brigade for provost 
duty in the town. 

Culpepper was eminently a " deserted village." Its dwellings 
were all closed and apparently tenantless. No resident, male 
or female, was seen on. the highways, and of the twenty stores 
and groceries none seemed to be doing business. Two hotels, 
the Piedmont and Virginia, still pretended to accommodate 
travellers. There were four churches, a large institute for girls, 
an academy for boys and several other schools. The buildings 



— 3 o8 — 

were of brick and frame, the latter largely predominating. Of 
course, as a shire town, the usual public building was not 
wanting. The population had numbered about 1500. 

On the 28th of September the corps was paraded for review 
by Major-General Corterge, of the Mexican army. 

Another military execution in the division followed close 
upon the one which has been described. An enlisted man of 
the 1 2th New York, convicted of desertion, proven a bounty- 
jumper, was shot to death by musketry. He refused to be 
bandaged, and, calmly gazing down the barrels that were to 
rattle his death-knell, received their volley with Ney-like hero- 
ism. His still, cool, impressive courage aroused a thought 
that he was not of the criminal class with which his crime as- 
sociated him. An involuntary sigh, audible as the volley 
rolled away in the distance, swept over the division for the fate 
of such a stalwart. 

The Patton House was a fine old-time massive Virginia 
mansion. Its wide hallways, commodious chambers, grand old 
porches, picturesque avenues, were evidences of ancient thrift, 
indicative of old-time hospitality. Abandoned property is an 
incentive to pillage, deserted dwellings are prompters to van- 
dalism. Hasty inferences are drawn of the burning, personal 
hate of their occupants, and the demon of destruction, roused 
by a spirit of resentment, prompts the best of men to deeds of 
rapine and plunder. The Patton House was not exempt from 
the rack and ruin attendant on all such " derelict " property. 
It was soon a wreck of its former self. Its fine porches were 
all destroyed, doors, windows and floors were carried away. 
PCverything movable found its way to the flames or was tem- 
porarily utilized in the quarters of the neighboring soldiery. 
The large, old-fashioned brass knocker on the front door, 
bearing the ancestral arms and the honored aristocratic name 
of its ancient founder, " Patton," in bold, distinctive lettering, 
had adorned it for a century. Torn from its place, this vener- 
able ornament was used to adorn a temporary door which a 
rude Northern mechanic had constructed for an entrance to his 



— 309 — 

canvas quarters, for no other earthly purpose than to find a 
place for the accommodation of this insignia of the Patton 
aristocracy. Brass heads from ancient bed-posts, lambrequins, 
andirons, fenders, shovels, tongs, spittoons, pitchers, basins, were 
put to use or ornamentation as the taste or inclination of the 
despoiler happened to dictate. 

A survivor of the Culpepper exodus, probably not from the 
walks of its most prominent citizens, surrounded by a bevy of 
shapely daughters, occasionally opened his doors for hospital- 
ity and entertainment. Once only an invitation to his recep- 
tions, which had grown to be generally appreciated, reached 
the camp of the 118th, and then but two of its officers were 
favored with a recognition. Such an opportunity to taste of 
social sweets amid these rude alarums of war was seized with 
avidity. Arrayed in the best attire from a sparse and well-worn 
wardrobe, these officers hastened on the given night to the scene 
of the festivities, cautiously concealing their absence and its 
purpose. It was a goodly company, and the ladies, attractive 
and fairly well clad in such garb as the limited Southern mar- 
ket afforded, were unusually gay and entertaining. Officers of 
the staff, cavalry, and artillery predominated. In boiled shirts 
and white collars they outshone the plain service garb of the 
practical infantryman. A little envious, our representatives 
subdued their tender sensibilities and permitted in the early 
evening their more gorgeously robed fellows to absorb the at- 
tentions of the fair ones. Merrily the dance went on, and the 
bottle, which had frequent calls from the male portion of the 
assemblage, began to enthuse its votaries with a strengthening 
and boisterous merriment. The delicate appetites of the ladies 
were appeased by frequent and light potations of sherry. One 
of the infantryrnen — the only two representatives of that branch 
of the service were the officers of the 1 1 8th — apt of tongue 
and glib of speech, had nursed his early envious promptings 
for a fitting and favorable opportunity to overcome the all-ab- 
sorbing domination of his rivals. The fairest of all these at- 
tractive maidens, the special friend and pride of a dapper little 



— 3 10 — 

fellow of the staff, had caught his cheery, penetrating laugh, 
been entranced by his captivating gaze and at last yielded to 
his winning ways. ' She let go the little fellow of the- staff and 
surrendered to the big, burly, generous infantryman. This 
drew the lines tightly, and all these mounted heroes only 
awaited slight provocation to satisfy their jealous ire against 
these two lonely representatives of the foot service. 

Alcohol and jealousy had done their work. Slanderous 
stories were carried to the father that the doughty soldier who 
had so successfully captured the " belle of the ball " was exces- 
sively familiar. The intimation was sufficient for the old gen- 
tleman. He, too, had not failed to linger long over the fre- 
quent passages of the bottle. Without investigation or in- 
quiry, he planted himself in an attitude of attack immediately 
in front of the offending officer. The lady pled with the an- 
gered parent to contain himself, that nothing had been said to 
disturb even her most delicate sensibilities, that her friend had 
conducted himself most decorously. He would not be ap- 
peased, and, attempting to plant an illy-aimed blow at his stout, 
well-proportioned adversary, was -himself caught before it 
landed and planted with his lower extremities in advance on 
a bed of hot coals in the large old-fashioned fire-place. This 
was a signal for a general assault. Begrimed with ashes and 
cinders, the old man rallied for another attack, and to his 
aid came those of the boiled shirts and white collars. The 
odds were against the two infantrymen, but strong arms, quick 
blows and some science laid one after another of their assailants 
aside. Their assailants worsted, with no disposition to renew 
the fight, the two soldiers escaped to the road and hurriedly 
made their way to camp, not, however, without fair trophies of 
the fray. One had a handful of boiled shirt and the other had 
seized a well-filled brandy-bottle from the table as he dashed 
through the hallway. 

The two participants in this escapade had so well concealed 
their movements and identity that their participation in it was 
never discovered. Failing to announce their intended absence 



— 3" — 

from camp, inquiries at the head-quarters of the 118th brought 
the response that it was none of their officers, as on the night 
in question they were all at home. Personally, they were un- 
known to all the officers at the ball save one. He, a cavalryman, 
disgusted with the discomfiture of his fellows, refused to disclose 
his acquaintanceship. The provost-guard of the ist Michigan 
and 1 8th Massachusetts, who had made but a half-hearted at- 
tempt at arrest at the time of the disturbance, glorying in any- 
thing that added to the prowess of the brigade, if they had any 
suspicions, never announced them. 

Cool, clear, bracing autumn weather prevailed. Routine 
camp duties and heavy picket details monopolized the time 
until Lee began his celebrated movement around the right, 
with Warrenton, Centreville or Washington for its objective, 
which hurried the Army of the Potomac off on its mad race to 
intercept him. 




SERGEANT HIRAM LAKE. 



CHAPTER XII. 



LEES MOVEMENT AROUND OUR RIGHT 

BROAD RUN. 



FLANK — BRISTOE- 



ILE the army re- 
mained in the vicinity 
of Culpepper and the 
Rapidan, the signal of- 
ficers, who had caught 
the key of the Confed- 
erate code, were in the 
habit of intercepting 
messages from the ene- 
my's signal station on 
Clark's Mountain. 

These despatches, 
however interesting or 
amusing, had never 
proved especially in- 
structive until, on the 
afternoon of the 7th of October, a despatch to General Fitz 
Hugh Lee from General J. E. B. Stuart, directing him to draw 
three days' bacon and hard bread, was caught on the wing, and 
on being sent forward to head-quarters of the army aroused 
General Meade's attention to the coining movement.* 

The impending movement referred to at the conclusion of the 
last chapter culminated in hostilities at Bristoe, and terminated 
when Lee found his way back to the Rappahannock again, 




* Walker's " History of the Second Army Corps," p. 321. 
(312) 



— 3i3 — 

tired from a wearisome march, disappointed with his fruitless 
errand. 

The intentions of General Meade did not seem to actively 
manifest themselves within 5th Corps limits until the 10th. 
Then the tendency of the movement indicated an expected 
cavalry demonstration as the objective. Camp was broken at 
3.45 in the morning and the march directed to the vicinity of 
Raccoon Ford, on the Rapidan. Here the column arrived at 
8.30, after a short march of some four or five miles. It passed 
through a recently abandoned picket line, well back from the 
Ford, which evidently had been occupied for some time. Be- 
yond it the brigade halted, nearer the river. The skirmishers 
were deployed, with instructions to advance as near as possible 
to the Ford without attracting the enemy's attention, who it 
was believed were still upon the other side, and then after a 
short interval to fall back gradually. The division pioneers 
accompanied the skirmishers and were deployed with them. 

They were instructed to fell timber along the roadway and 
obstruct it at intervals with trees and such other material as 
was available. The purpose of such obstruction seemed to be 
to retard a cavalry advance. It was a laborious job, and the 
skirmishers and pioneers made slow progress. The main body 
moved back some miles and the detail did not join it until 
about two in the afternoon. 

The road led in the general direction of Culpepper. Captain 
Donaldson, as the brigade officer of the day, was charged 
with the execution of these details. 

At one point in the line of march there was no timber for a 
considerable distance, except a fine grove of old maples in the 
grounds of a large, well-appointed mansion. The fence rails in 
this vicinity had long since disappeared, and as no other mate- 
rial was at hand, it seemed evident that these ancient adorn- 
ments of the old time dwelling must be sacrificed. The house 
was closed tightly and apparently unoccupied. Prompted by 
a curiosity to ascertain if any one was within, the captain, after 
examining- the trees and deciding; that their destruction was a 



— 3H — 

necessity, strolled up the lane, stamped about the porch, rattled 
the Venetian blinds, and by other noises endeavored to attract 
attention. He had but little time to pursue such investigation, 
and was about leaving when the window was raised, the shutters 
sharply thrown open, and a female voice, calm, dignified, severe, 
demanded to know, " To what am I indebted for this intru- 
sion ? " 

The captain, quickly turning towards his interrogator, found 
himself in the presence of a lady, evidently of refinement and 
culture. Removing his hat and searching for the most graceful 
and polite phrases, he replied to her interrogation : 

" I am here, madam, by order of my superior officers, in- 
structed to block all the roads and by-paths by felling timber, 
and otherwise to hinder and delay as much as possible the ex- 
pected advance of Lee's army. You are doubtless aware that 
for a long distance there are no trees save those in front of 
your mansion. I greatly admire these stately maples now 
mellow in their autumn changes, and I regret that the stern 
necessity of war compels their sacrifice." 

All the while the captain was thus gracefully speaking he 
was slowly edging himself away for his departure. 

" Stop, sir ! " in stern, commanding tones abruptly halted 
him. " I had been looking at you through the blinds before 
opening the window and fancied you a gentleman, though in 
the livery of one of Lincoln's spoilers." 

The hot blood mounted to the captain's cheeks, and he re- 
plied : " Madam, the principles that actuate Mr. Lincoln and 
the causes and object of this war, I am not here to discuss. If 
you propose to insult my colors, I will not so far forget my 
manhood as to do otherwise than ask your permission to retire." 
And he again essayed to withdraw. 

But the lady's manner softened. The captain's excessive as- 
surance of such profound respect for womanhood staggered 
her. " Stay, sir," again she cried. " I had not intended to ex- 
cite your anger by a reference to the bitterness this war has 
aroused, and confess my error. It is so very uncommon to 



— 3i5 — 

meet gentlemen in your service, I was somewhat surprised to 
suddenly find myself in the presence of one." 

This apology, commencing so happily but terminating in 
what was intended to be something of a personal compliment, 
nettled the captain still further. 

" Then, madam, I am loath to believe you have ever had the 
personal acquaintance of any one in that service, and as you 
have seen fit to measure me so highly, you will be good enough 
hereafter to take me as a fit representative of my brethren." 

This seemed to smooth all differences, and the lady grace- 
fully turned the conversation and concluded by saying: " From 
what State are you ? And will you be good enough to give 
me your name, so that, looking at my poor, prostrate trees, I 
may kindly remember the officer who so politely apologized 
for their destruction ?" 

" You mistake me, madam," replied the captain, again irri- 
tated ; " I make no apology for doing my duty. The purpose 
of my visit was one of investigation. Seeing you, I took occa- 
sion to notify you of what you must expect. My name is 
Donaldson ; I am from Pennsylvania — a Philadelphian." 

"From Philadelphia!" she exclaimed. "And have you 
relatives in our service ?" 

Opening the windows to the level of the porch, with hands 
firmly clasped, she approached the captain, looking intently at 
him. 

" Yes," said he. " I have a brother." 

"And to what regiment does he belong?" said she, ex- 
citedly. 

" The 22d Virginia." 

" Is his name John ? and do you remember his watch and 
anything about it that could specially identify it ? " 

" Yes," he responded, as much astonished as she. " His 
name is John. He carried an open-faced, old-fashioned gold 
watch, which, when I last saw it, bore the name of his father, 
John P. Donaldson, engraved on the inside." 

With this she hurriedly left, and, entering the house, called 



— 316 — 

to another lady, whom she afterwards presented as her sister, 
to come down-stairs at once ; that there was a Federal offi- 
cer upon the porch whom she was satisfied was the brother of 
Captain Donaldson, whom they knew. The captain's fraternal 
affection was aroused to know more of his brother, who, a resi- 
dent of Charleston, Kanawha county, West Virginia, when the 
war began, had drifted into the enemy's service and of whom 
he had since heard but little. 

With the sister was still another lady. Both were young, 
fresh and pretty. The stiff dignity of the elder one left her, 
her hauteur subsided, and she went on in altered tones and a 
friendly manner to tell of their acquaintance with the brother. 
He had been severely wounded in one of the recent engage- 
ments and, fortunately, had fallen into their hands. He had 
been an inmate of their home for many weeks, and but for 
their generous care and tender nursing a dangerous wound 
which he had received might have resulted fatally. His affable, 
genial manners, quiet, submissive disposition through all his 
sufferings, had endeared him to the family, and any near rela- 
tive of his, whether friend or foe, would be ever welcome as 
their guest. She said that she had for some time observed 
the captain before she made her presence known and felt im- 
pressed with a conviction that she was observing a familiar 
face, and it was this conviction that had prompted her inquiries, 
but with no real belief that it would bring about such results. 
The watch they were particularly familiar with. When the 
brother left he preferred not to again risk this old-time family 
relic to the uncertainties of the battle-field and had left it with 
them for safe-keeping. 

Our good lady now turned again to the all-absorbing ques- 
tion of the trees. She had remembered them from infancy. 
Planted by a former generation, they had grown to be loved and 
familiar objects, and were cherished by the entire family. At the 
risk of treasonable utterances she felt justified in communicat- 
ing such information of Lee's movements as made it apparent 
that those movements could be in no way delayed or hindered 



— 3i7 — 

by blocking or obstructing the Federal rear. Lee's plan 
was to move completely around and, if possible, envelop the 
Federal right, and she felt that the movement had probably 
now so far developed itself as to show to the Federals some- 
thing, at least, of the intent of the operations. Feeling assured 
that his new acquaintances meant to practice no deception, 
Captain Donaldson, without waiting to exchange a courteous 
farewell or even inquire the family name, hurried to his horse, 
which he had left at the end of the lane, and leaving directions 
to assemble his skirmishers and stop work, dashed off rapidly 
to place his information where it would soonest be transmitted 
to head-quarters. 

Whether it was this information thus unexpectedly acquired 
that first developed to General Meade General Lee's purpose 
was not known to the regiment then. It is probably too late to 
assume it now, but certain it is that Meade did not become 
aware of Lee's movement with any certainty until late in the 
day on the ioth. The interview at the mansion was before two 
o'clock ; several hours necessarily elapsed ere the knowledge 
gleaned from it ultimately reached army head-quarters. No 
general movement, guided by an understanding of Lee's in- 
tended operations, took place until evening. The conclusion 
that at least some of the credit of securing this important intel- 
ligence should enure to the enterprise of an officer of the 1 18th 
is rendered not improbable by General Walker's statement on 
p. 322 of his " History of the Second Army Corps," in which, 
in the course of his narration of these same events, he says : 
"At last, on the evening of the ioth, it was deemed sufficiently 
manifest that General Lee was in fact moving on Warrcnton, to 
require the Union army to fall back behind the Rappahannock, 
which was accomplished during the nth." 

To resume the direct narrative. The skirmishers and pioneers 
having rejoined the brigade at 2.30, it moved back again over 
the four or five miles it marched in the morning, and halted at 
its old camp. There, under orders to move at a moment's no- 
tice, with trains hitched ready for immediate start, the troops 



- 3i8 - ' 

secured that indefinite and uncertain rest that follows an attempt 
at repose while under orders to march. 

At six o'clock on the morning of the I ith there was a hurried 
departure. The column passed through Culpepper. The gait 
maintained was more than usually rapid, and after a continued 
stretch of ten miles, made without a rest, the column reached 
the neighborhood of Brandy Station. Here the troops de- 
ployed and faced to the rear, remaining in line of battle to sup- 
port the retiring cavalry and protect the withdrawing trains. 




TRAINS TO THE REAR. 

Down through the ranks by this time it came to be pretty well 
understood that this movement comprehended an avoidance of 
something initiated by the enemy, and visions of Bull Run, 
Manassas, Thoroughfare Gap, Pope's retreat, and other names 
and localities suggestive of disaster were so rife in the imagi- 
nation as to eventually culminate in audible and ominous ex- 
pression. 

The country about Brandy Station is well suited for observa- 
tion. There was considerable artillery practice at long range, 



— 3^9 — 

principally from the enemy, who were closely pressing our re- 
tiring squadrons. The infantry remained in support, occu- 
pying rifle-pits that had been constructed before. Over the 
plain in front there were repeated charges and countercharges, 
with varied success as the one or the other side was in heaviest 
numbers. Presently the enemy appeared in considerable 
strength, bearing down hard upon our severely pressed horse. 
General Griffin, standing beside an idle battery unlimbered and 
" in action front," evidently concluded that the best way to re- 
lieve this pressure on the discomfited horse was to try some 
effective work with the guns. He stood in their midst and 
personally directed the fire. The first shot was too high, 
knocking off the branches of timber in the woods in front of 
which stood a large body of the enemy's cavalry. This prac- 
tice did not suit him, and he directed the artillerymen to' depress 
their pieces, remarking with considerable emphasis, as he had 
done once before, " You are firing too high ; just roll the shot 
along the ground like a ten-pin ball and knock their d — n 
trotters from under them," practically illustrating his instruc- 
tions by stooping and trundling his hand and running smartly 
as if in the act of bowling. Better work followed, and after 
several discharges the enemy disappeared entirely and the cav 
airy, infantry, artillery and trains continued the march without 
further interruption to the Rappahannock. The brigade crossed 
at Rappahannock Station about four o'clock, and marching well 
into the evening " went tenting to-night on the old camp 
ground " near Beverly Ford, where it had spent so many 
pleasant weeks in the late summer and early fall. There was 
no disposition to " give us a song to cheer." It had been a 
weary, tiresome day, with a prospect of a heavy tug on the 
morrow, and the soldiers sought a much-needed rest. 

On the 1 2th the brigade was back again to the Rappahannock, 
and about noon the corps recrossed at Beverly Ford. An unusual 
and impressive martial display followed. The sky was cloud- 
less. The sun shone in all its autumn splendor. Beyond a 
timber belt, at intervals lining the right bank of the stream, 



— 320 — 

the country for almost the entire distance to Brandy Station is 
an open, level plain, broad enough to accommodate almost the 
entire Army of the Potomac deployed in line of masses, and 
wide enough to permit its march in that formation for a con- 
siderable distance. Three great army corps, the 2d, 5th and 
6th, arrayed in serried lines of masses, with battalions doubled 
on the centre, concealed by bluffs or timber, burst suddenly, as 
if by word of command, out upon this wide expansive plain. 
It was as gorgeous a pageant of real war as the Army of the 
Potomac ever saw, and it was the firm belief of all that the oc- 
casion was one of business, not of show. 

For the first time the soldiers realized the sensation of 
entering battle with the grandeur attending a full view of 
masses of men prepared for action. There were no inquiries for 
the supports, no thoughts of exposed flanks, no anxieties for a 
sufficient reserve. The scene aroused an assurance of strength, 
stirred a commendable spirit of competition, and was such an 
incentive to valor and determination that the actual combat was 
earnestly looked for with no doubtful convictions of its results. 

The artillery accompanied the movement, and at proper in- 
tervals, reserved for their accommodation, the batteries moved 
parallel with the advanced lines. The division moved in echelon 
by brigades. The breeze from the front was just stiff enough 
to flutter the colors at right angles with the staff. At no time 
during the entire advance did the troops seem to vary from an 
almost perfect alignement along the whole of this extended 
front. The short autumn daylight faded out and the splendid 
pageant was lost in the early darkness. The anticipated fight 
was not at hand, there was no enemy to bar the progress of 
this mighty host, and the prospective glories of the rout and 
ruin of the foe were lost in the fading shadows of a brilliant 
October twilight. 

When it was discovered that the operation had failed to bring 
on an engagement, it was the conviction of those who did not 
know its purpose that this splendid show of force, threatening 
Lee's communications, was meant to tempt him back again, 



— 321 — 

and, failing of its purpose before night came on, the intention 
was abandoned. Such conjectures were wrong, however ; a 
fight was really expected. Generals Sykes and Pleasanton had 
both reported that a heavy infantry force had been uncovered 
near Brandy Station, and Meade turned his legions back again 
to meet it. Sykes and Pleasanton were mistaken. A small 
body of cavalry had deceived them. It vanished on the ap- 
pearance of this huge array, and the whole affair materially 
aided Lee in the better accomplishment of his intended opera- 
tions. 

It was well into the night before the troops made a stop in- 
dicative of rest, and at midnight, their appetites satisfied with a 
very rough meal, they were ready for slumber. The men had 
scarcely passed into forgetfulness when shrill bugle notes broke 
the still midnight air, and the " general " brought them all to 
their feet again. One broad-chested fellow, of stentorian voice, 
violently shook his sleepy companion who had lost himself for 
just ten minutes, yelling vociferously, " Get up, you lazy 
lubber, you ; do you want to sleep all the time ? " Shouts of 
laughter greeted this absurd speech, and made the men more 
cheerful. At one o'clock in the morning of the 13th the 
column turned upon itself, marched back and again crossed the 
Rappahannock at Beverly Ford, resting for the second time at 
the old camp ground. There hurriedly breakfasting at six, 
starting on again at seven, trending eastward and striking the 
Orange and Alexandria Railway at Warrenton Junction at 
noon, a halt was made for the night's bivouac at Walnut Branch 
near Catlett Station at 5.30 in the afternoon. This concluded 
what was really the continuous work of one entire night and 
two consecutive days. 

It was a busy day for the flankers. In more than usual 
strength, extended well to the left, they continued on the alert, 
anxiously apprehensive of an attack from Lee's columns moving 
by parallel roads only a mile or so to the northward. At in- 
tervals during the day the enemy's trains, where the distance 
between the two armies narrowed and where prominent ridges 
21 



— 322 — 

afforded opportunity for observation, appeared in full view. 
In the early morning it was known at army head-quarters 
that Ewell's corps was moving by the Warrenton turnpike, and 
Hill's by Salem and Thoroughfare Gap. In a " confidential 
circular," published at half-past ten o'clock, corps commanders 
were advised to this effect, and those in the rear, the 5th and 
2d, were instructed to spare no precaution against attack, as 
the enemy's intention, whether to make a desperate lunge at 
the left flank and rear, or throw himself on Centreville Heights 
before the Union army reached there, had not yet been fully 
developed. 

General Griffin evidently anticipated battle, as he directed the 
release of private Thomas Sands, of Company F, who was under 
arrest awaiting execution, and ordered him to be equipped and 
returned to the ranks ready for the coming engagement. 

The 14th, with a four o'clock reveille and a nine o'clock start, 
was to be a busy day for the 5th Corps, and a memorable and 
anxious one for the 2d, the rear guard of the army. In the 
ranks it was mistakenly believed that the 5th was bringing up 
the rear. The 3d, 5th and 2d Corps, the three rear corps of the 
army, had been directed not to move from the points they might 
from time to time respectively occupy on the 14th until the 
corps following had come up. These directions should have 
held Sykes at Bristoe, which his rear division, Griffin's, reached 
at about one o'clock, until Warren had undoubtedly appeared 
or he had actually got into communication with him. But 
Sykes, bent only upon reaching Centreville, anxious con- 
cerning the long interval between him and the 3d Corps, and 
more than impatient at what he considered Warren's unneces- 
sary delay, was ready to receive any information that brought 
the 2d Corps in sight. Receiving such a report, made by an 
officer of his staff in undoubted good faith, without waiting to 
communicate with Warren or to verify the report, Sykes put 
his own troops in motion for Centreville As a fact, the 5th 
Corps had had time to stretch itself out, except its rear division, 
before A. P. Hill's corps, which had been directed on Broad 



— 323 — 

Run at the railway crossing and not on Centreville, appeared 
in sight. 

But Warren had had a day of incident and anxiety. He 
awoke to find Stuart between two of his divisions, a position of 
which Stuart was as ignorant as Warren. Caldwell's division, 
preparing its morning meal, was startled by vigorous shelling 
from the very direction in which it was about to move. What 
force or who it was was not apparent. It was sufficiently omin- 
ous to place the division of the corps in battle array to meet 
an attack. Stuart, willing "to be let alone," after a few shots, 
disappeared. This unavoidable detention, with other stoppages, 
Ewell's skirmishers thickening about the rear and flanks, with 
occasional shelling of the timber on the left, necessarily delayed 
Warren until about three, when, at the rear of his columns, he 
was startled by firing two miles or more to his front. It was 
the enemy's artillery on the west of Broad Run firing on Grif- 
fin's division lying in innocent repose on the east bank. This 
digression is introduced, as the movements of the 5th and 2d 
Corps were, or should have been, during the day, intimately 
connected. 

Griffin's division crossed Broad Run near Bristoe, a village, 
big or little, but of which but a " few lonely chimneys remained 
to show where it once stood," about one o'clock, apparently 
secure from pursuit. With no evidence of the likelihood of 
disturbance, the men betook themselves to the preparation of a 
noonday meal, and little individual fires soon began to show 
themselves along the high bluff lands lining the stream. 

The impression that the corps was the rear of the army had 
been strengthened by the cutting of trees along the line of 
march so that they could be readily pushed over when the last 
of the troops had passed, and by the urgency of General Pat- 
rick, the provost-marshal-general, who was directing the opera- 
tions, that the work be expedited. 

Crocker, Thomas and a number of other officers were seated 
upon the bluff enjoying their coffee, and overlooking and dis- 
cussing the features of the country over which the column had 



— 324 — 

just passed. From the west bank of the run the ground rose 
gradually and the country was open and unobstructed to a belt 
of timber some distance off. The soil was pretty well used up, 
and the early frosts having blighted every vestige of verdure, 
the grass was the color of the earth. Crocker suddenly jumped 
to his feet and startled his associates with the decidedly pene- 
trating interrogation of: " What is that coming across the 
fields ? look ! " and then in answer to his own interrogation 
continued, "a reb skirmish line, by heaven ! " The close re- 
semblance of their uniforms to the color of the ground was 
confirmatory that they were the enemy, and still more convinc- 
ing evidence of the character of the advancing body was the 
appearance of several guns (Poague's) which, rapidly emerging 
from the timber, unlimbered and went into battery. Shot after 
shot, well directed, was sent in quick succession into the con- 
fused mass so illy prepared for such a demonstration. 

The division was hurriedly withdrawn. A mounted officer 
dashing through the troops had his arm torn off by a shell. 
The men moved in good order, but it was manifest that there 
was a general feeling that the appearance of the enemy was 
wholly unexpected and unprepared for. As an illustration of 
the great confidence that the men had in the courage and gen- 
eralship of General Griffin, who had recently returned to the 
division after a short absence, it may be mentioned that the 
officers could do nothing better to reassure the troops than to 
say :" Men, General Griffin is in command." The movement 
continued until the division reached Manassas Junction. Here, 
after a few moments' halt, the division, with a good gait and in 
excellent order, started back whence it came, to the sound of 
firing that by that time indicated a heavy engagement. It 
reached the field about four o'clock and went into position on 
the east side of Broad Run, where the batteries shelled the 
enemy on the other side. The infantry did not attempt to 
cross and was not engaged. The loss in the brigade was 
slight. 

While the pace of the rear division of the 5th was quickened 



from the place which it had so quickly abandoned, the 2d 
Corps was hurrying to what was to be its glorious field of 
Bristoe. Before the first of its men had come upon the field, 
the last of the 5th Corps had passed out of sight. It seemed 
strange that the rear division, instead of being permitted to 
hurry along to Manassas, had not been retained in the position 
in which it was first attacked. When the affair was over and 
the officers and men understood it, such was their conclusion. 
But soldiers never care to investigate such matters and let them 
remain for their superiors to settle, or history to discuss. Gen- 
eral Sykes asserted, and his assertion must be accepted without 
challenge, that he never heard the sounds of battle at Bristoe ; 
did not know his rear division was attacked, and supposed 
General Warren was moving on Centreville, until he received 
the intelligence of the engagement with Hill. General Walker, 
"' History 2d Army Corps," who would naturally be Sykes's 
severest critic, attributes his conduct to the fact that he had 
wrought himself up to the single conception of reaching Centre- 
ville ; that he believes warning of the danger of a flanking col- 
umn had fallen " idly upon his ears " — so idly that when he 
first heard Warren had been engaged and captured guns, he 
insisted it could not have been with anything but a very small 
force. 

Warren's day of anxiety and vicissitude closed in a bitter 
punishment to his adversary. Ewell's activity, the distance 
from supports, turned his consideration solely to the suggested 
precaution for the safety of the rear division of the army and 
when Poague's guns summoned him to the right of his corps his 
quick intelligence caught the railroad cut as the only point 
from which to throw off the attack, now imminent from rapidly 
gathering forces. The movement was executed none too soon ; 
Hayes's division reached it, Owens's brigade coming up amid a 
shower of balls, just in time to repel a determined onslaught 
of Heth's division. Again it was renewed, but, better pre- 
pared and with a more extended front, Warren's men again 
threw it off. Several hours of daylight yet remained and the 



— 326 — 

2d Corps might yet be crushed amid the gathering masses of 
Ewell and Hill, assembling, it was believed, to avenge the re- 
pulse of Heth. But night came and there was no renewal of 
the assault from either side. 

The troops of the 5th Corps that returned and took position 
on the bluff were on the flank of the enemy, with only the run, 
fordable at all points in column, between them. It was their 
conviction that an opportunity was lost in not utilizing them 
for a flank movement. Their presence doubtless served to hold 
back the forces of Ewell and Hill. Meade's policy seemed to 
have been one of resistance only. Some critics have referred 
to the situation at Broad Run and Bristoe as a lost opportunity 
for an open field fight that had been so long sought for. Pretty 
much all the enemy had gathered there, and by the next morn- 
ing the whole Army of the Potomac might have been. Quiet 
criticism among the thinking ones at the time was to a like 
effect. Correspondence is yet extant where this view was 
maintained in a respectful soldierly tone, by line officers dis- 
posed at times to think out the situation with the limited oppor- 
tunities then at their command. 

Warren gathered trophies of guns and colors and prisoners 
and added to his accumulating laurels. Such success as a 
temporary corps commander could not make it long doubtful 
that he must soon find a place among those who should be 
permanently assigned to high command. Before many months 
rolled by he succeeded Sykes in command of the 5th Corps. 

Monaghan, of I, was a recruit of '63. He was a constitutional 
growler at everything and against everybody, yet withal a good- 
natured, open-hearted, witty fellow, always ready for duty when 
he was up. His besetting sin was straggling. He had been a 
sailor in the merchant service, beyond the age when the habits of 
life can be conveniently changed. Tempted by the large boun- 
ties offered at the time he forsook his calling and entered the 
infantry. Of all the arms of the service his early training least 
fitted him for, was that of the foot soldier. To lug his pack was 
a harder job than to march. He fell out on every occasion 



— 327 — 

and was never up until everybody else had comfortably dis- 
posed of themselves. Twitted with his delinquencies, he styled 
his associates a lot of land-lubbers, pack-mules, fit only to tramp 
and no use to furl sail or climb the ratlines. He would show 
them how to march if they'd give him the deck of a gunboat in 
a heavy sea for his parade-ground. The movement from the 
Rapidan had taxed his greatest energies. Aware of the prox- 
imity of the enemy, he had strained himself beyond his ordinary 
capacity and crossed Broad Run with the usual column of 
stragglers some time after the main body had been upon the 
other side. He had been up so little during this march, and 
his associates having seen nothing of him, they had given him 
up as " missing." He managed, however, to work himself 
along with the " stragglers' brigade," a body which had learned 
from long experience how to care for itself. 

This body, true, tried and brave, reaching the grounds later, 
had not progressed so far with their meal as had the " regular " 
troops, when they were startled by the appalling sounds of 
cannonading behind them. The rear, the place of their choice,, 
the spot of their own selection, selected from its more than 
usual safety, had at last been assailed. Nearest the bank they 
caught the heaviest punishment, and some were killed. This 
so increased their gait that Monaghan shortly afterwards, going; 
at a pretty active pace, found himself near the limits of his own 
command. His companions first recognized him, the new part 
he was playing bringing him into more than usual prominence. 
With a number of his newly made acquaintances of the "strag- 
glers' brigade," he had secured the services of an enervated 
and abandoned cavalry steed, improvised a bridle, and three 
of them had mounted the animal and were making reasonably 
fair progress in their flight. Just as Monaghan was recognized 
they were approaching a ditch which in the days of his youth,, 
when the hinges of his knee-joints were supple, the poor war- 
worn steed would have cleared with a slight effort. The three 
sons of war who bestrode him urged him forward, first with 
oaths and then with kicks, but he did not understand their bad 



— 328 — 

English, and paid no attention to their other hints. Then, in 
the compassion of their hearts and their desire to get him across 
the ditch, they dismounted. But the horse had arrived at an 
age when he knew his own mind, and cared not for the views 
of others. The three valorous knights, by dint of pulling and 
pushing, got him to the middle of the ditch, and there they 
were obliged to leave him. Monaghan, who had been shouted 
at and guyed by his comrades during the performance, joined 
his company and poured forth such a stream of sea-phrases 
that the air around seemed to grow salt. He got on as far as 
the Junction, but disappeared on the return to Bristoe. He 
evidently quickly comprehended this deflection as a temporary 
affair and concluded to await the return of the regiment before 
he should attach himself to it permanently. 

The 2d Corps, with but the three hundred yards between it 
and the enemy, silently, without an audible word of command, 
with no hum of voices or buzz of conversation, began its with- 
drawal in the very early evening. Stretching out its columns 
over the broad plains of Manassas, after sixty-nine hours in 
which it had been continuously in column on the road, or 
fighting and skirmishing with the enemy, it found rest from its 
toil between three and four o'clock in the morning near Black- 
burn's Ford, on the left bank of Bull Run. General Morgan, 
Inspector-General of that corps, says of that campaign : " Short 
as it was, it was more fatiguing than that of the seven days on 
the Peninsula, since the marches were much longer." 

The Confederate army was still arriving long after dark. 
The arrival of each new brigade was indicated by the bursting 
out of fresh camp-fires from the locality of its bivouac. The 
enemy's fires covered the entire slope of country within the 
vision in front of the 2d and 5th Corps. The lines of the 
2d Corps were so close to the enemy that conversation was 
audible and the words of command could be distinctly heard. 
Its withdrawal was therefore a delicate manoeuvre. The enemy 
were evidently concentrating for a purpose, and upon discovery 
of our attempt to elude them could have subjected us to a ter- 



— 329 — 

rible artillery punishment. Hill's and Ewell's batteries con- 
trolled both the ford and the railway bridge, and the light from 
the bursting of the shells would have revealed the line of 
march for some distance beyond. 

That the weary, jaded troops of the 2d Corps might have 
some relief if such contingency had happened, the 5th Corps 
was left in position until ten o'clock, that its batteries might 
divert the attention of the enemy's artillerists should they at- 
tempt an interference with the withdrawal of the 2d Corps. 
Then, at that hour, it quietly stole away. In the matter of 
actual rest, the 5th had had but little advantage over their com- 
rades of the 2d. They were in no sense prepared for strong, 
orderly exertion, when the nervous strain attending the pres- 
ence of an active, watchful enemy had ceased, so when the 
column had stretched out to the Junction, and the men knew 
they need no longer be wary of the foe, with the broad, familiar 
plains of Manassas before them and Centreville Heights their 
known destination, they betook themselves to the gait that best 
suited their temperament, the strong and energetic to hurry 
through and complete the journey, to secure the most they 
could of rest out of what would be left of the night; and the 
weary and weak to move by slow and easy stages, snatching 
here and there a moment of repose by the wayside. 

It was three o'clock when division head-quarters went into 
bivouac in the locality of Centreville. That the scattered com- 
mands and straggling soldiers might be directed to their proper 
bivouacs, division and brigade head-quarters at intervals well 
on until daylight sounded their respective bugle calls. A 
tedious search was thus avoided and the sleeping soldier saved 
the use of profane imprecations in response to inquiries from 
his roving companions, and the latter were not misled by the 
sulphurous directions usually given them under such circum- 
stances. 

It was rest the soldier needed, not subsistence, and as soon 
as he found the place indicated for it, he dropped down to 
sleep satisfied the morrow would afford ample opportunity to 
answer all consistent demands of the most exacting stomach. 



— 33Q — 

On the 15th the brigade moved to Fairfax Court-House, on 
the 1 6th it returned to Centreville, remained there during the 
17th, and on the 18th marched back again to Fairfax Court- 
House, and from thence, on the same day, to Fox's Mill. On 
the 19th it passed through Centreville again, crossed Bull Run 
and halted in the afternoon on the old battle-field. On the 
early morning of the 20th it moved by the Warrenton turnpike 
through Groveton to the vicinity of New Baltimore. 

This practically closed the marches and manoeuvres incident 
to Lee's flanking operations. The frequent shifting between 
the 15th and 19th was due to " indications " that failed to indi- 
cate. The enemy, mistakenly reported to be advancing first 
from here and then from there, in fact never crossed Broad Run 
in any numbers. Lee, disappointed of his purpose to absorb a 
few of the nearmost divisions of the Union army, returned and 
occupied the country between the Rappahannock and the Rap- 
idan, leaving a strong advance party well fortified on the left 
bank of the former river near the railway crossing. This force 
and the well-appointed work it occupied subsequently fell into 
the Union hands in one of the most spirited and brilliant affairs 
of the war. 

On the 24th of October the brigade moved up to Auburn, 
and on the 30th to " Three Mile Station," near Warrenton 
Junction, on the Orange and Alexandria Railway, a section of 
country with which the troops had long before become quite 
familiar. Here it remained until the morning of the 7th of 
November, when it moved out to take its part in the memor- 
able assault on the works at Rappahannock railway station. 

Illustrative of the general worthlessness of the substitute class, 
a necessarily severe case of discipline administered to break 
one of the most notorious and disorderly among them occurred 
about this time. Shields, of H, inflamed with liquor, was a 
fiend. Sober, he was quiet, inoffensive, tractable. He was a 
soldierly appearing, muscular, brawny fellow, of a height to en- 
title him to the right of his company. Liquor he would have 
if within reach, no matter the cost or consequences. At Cen- 



— 33i — 

treville the sutlers had found opportunity for a thriving busi- 
ness. Shields, refused permission to leave camp, eluded the 
guard, and returned in a state of roaring, disgraceful drunk- 
enness. His loud, abusive profanity promptly brought the 
guard down upon him. On his way to his place of confine- 
ment he broke from them, seized a musket from a neighboring 
stack, and, thus armed, defied his captors to retake him. His 
strength had doubled with the stimulants he had poured into 
him, and for a moment the detail hesitated to approach him. 
Finally he was dealt a blow that levelled him to unconscious- 
ness and was eventually removed to the hospital, for his injuries 
for a time seemed likely to prove fatal. He ultimately re- 
covered, was tried by court-martial, and, suffering an ignomini- 
ous punishment, subsequently returned to the ranks. But his 
punishment was of no avail ; all his confinement to no purpose. 
Time and again he returned to his cups ; again and again he 
repeated his offences. Believing that the discipline of the regu- 
lar army was best suited to his composition, an application to 
transfer him was favorably considered and he was assigned to 
the 4th Artillery. Some months afterwards on the march the 
regiment passed his battery in park. Shields had not yet been 
conquered ; spread out, with a quarter turn, on the fifth wheel 
he was undergoing that severe and trying ordeal that should 
have broken the rebellious spirits of the most hardened of- 
fenders. 

The Bull Run battle-field, where the short afternoon halt 
was made, near the Henry House, on the march to New Balti- 
more, still bore striking evidence of the fierce work of death 
that twice waged so severely about that dwelling. The ex- 
posed remains of an officer of the 1st Michigan, who fell there, 
recognized by his teeth, were given more decent sepulture and 
the grave properly marked for subsequent identification. Near 
it the rain had uncovered the body of a cavalryman. He had 
been buried, booted and spurred, with belt and sabre. His 
uniform and accoutrements were in an excellent state of pres- 
ervation. The flesh had slipped from the bones, and in at- 



— 332 — 

tempting to lift the body by the belt, the skeleton fell in a con- 
fused mass of bones and clothing. The grave was dug deeper 
and sufficient earth thrown over it to construct a mound, and, 
with that alone as a mark of recognition, it was left as another 
one of the still unnumbered and forever unknown dead. Num- 
bers of unburied Confederates still lay about, notably, as recog- 
nized by the insignia on their uniforms, of the nth North 
Carolina and 18th Georgia. 

The grave of Colonel Fletcher Webster, son of the distin- 
guished Massachusetts statesman, killed whilst gallantly leading 
his regiment in the second battle, had received more considerate 
attention. Identified by a suitable head and foot board, the 
withered grass upon the mound was ready to bloom again 
when the season should come. 

Captain John P. Bankson, acting as Brigade Inspector, whilst 
on the march to Gettysburg, had lost a pocket album, contain- 
ing a few mementos and photographs of his family, somewhere 
in this vicinity. With no thought really of its recovery, he rode 
over the locality where the brigade had bivouacked on that 
occasion, and, much to his surprise and satisfaction, found it. 
The contents, sadly injured by the exposure, were still recog- 
nizable and worth preserving. 

On the line of the same march, occupied by a few old men 
and women, lay a hamlet of twelve unpretending dwellings, 
known to the neighborhood — it was unknown elsewhere — as 
Buckton. A haggard and worn specimen of the men stood by 
the roadside with a cynical and contemptuous expression of 
countenance, indicative of a wholesale condemnation of the 
entire Union army and its cause. An officer of the regiment, 
seeking information as to his likely destination, respectfully 
interrogated him as to the direction of the road. He framed 
his interrogatory to afford opportunity for a sharp and curt 
reply, of which the old fellow was prompt to take advantage. 
" Where does this road go to, my good man ? " said the officer. 
Promptly came the facetious response : " It stays right here 
where it is and don't go anywhere." But the old man quaked 



— 333 



somewhat under the stern chorus, for all who heard the inquiry 
and answer seemed to be of like thinking : they responded in 
unison — " Beware, old fellow, beware, there are Massachusetts 
men behind us ; an answer such as that to them will bring 
down upon your hoary head and shrunken shoulders the dire 
vengeance of all New England." 

Major Herring received his just and well-deserved promotion 
to lieutenant-colonel whilst in camp near* Auburn, and shortly 
after, forced by severe illness, and at the urgent insistence of 
the surgeon, left for 
a few weeks on sick 
leave. At the same 
time Lieutenant 
Kelly was promot- 
ed to the captaincy 
of G, 2d Lieutenant 
Bayne to the ist 
lieutenancy of A, 
and Sergeant Jo- 
seph Ashbrook to 
the 2d lieutenancy % 
ofK. | 

Captain Dendy 
Sharwood was re- 
lieved from his de- 
tail as acting bri- 
gade commissary color-sergeant samuel f. delaney. 

and, as the ranking officer present, the command of the regi- 
ment devolved upon him. 

Late October and early November were cold, chilly times and 
frequent and drenching rains added to the discomforts. In a 
region so prolific in timber, huge fires blazed continually and 
their cheering warmth was a fair substitute for the more desir- 
able and attractive winter-quarters fire-place. There was but 
little opportunity for visiting, the prevailing inclemency making 
camp-life at home a necessity. Road-building and picket-duty, 




— 334 — 

outside of the usual routine of drill, parade and instruction, 
occupied the time, and enjoyments and amusements were not 
wanting within regimental limits to fill up the leisure. The 
" Joe Hooker retreat " was not forgotten. Antidotal against 
dampness, moisture, depression and despondency, an exhilarat- 
ing excitant for fun, merriment, wit and wisdom, it was in un- 
usually active demand. 







CAPTAIN AND BREVET-MAJOR ALBERT H. 
WALTERS 



CHAPTER XIII. 

RAPPAHANNOCK STATION. 

EVENTIDE on the 6th blazed in the golden glory of a 
November Virginian twilight, and the setting sun " by 
the bright tracks of its fiery chariot gave promise of a goodly 
day the morrow." 

The unsuspecting soldiers had no knowledge of the presence 
of the enemy ; no intimation of the work cut out for them to do 
on the following day. It was the general conviction that after 
a few more days of inaction they would build winter-quarters 
and rest on their laurels until spring. They turned in that 
night happy in the thought and slept the sleep of the lazy. 
They turned out the next morning at half-past four to the 
sharp, clear sound of the division bugle-call, hastily followed by 
the reveille and " general." Amazed, disappointed, drowsy, life 
seemed to them, for the time being, a failure. 

The brilliant sunset of the 6th kept its promise, and the 
morning of the 7th broke sharp, clear and cloudless. No 
rations had been ordered to be cooked, nor extra ones given 
out; no ammunition had been issued beyond the usual sixty 
rounds ; no enemy was lurking near. From these facts the 
men concluded that, notwithstanding the early start and the 
apparent haste of the movement, it could have no other object 
than a change of ground, to the vicinity of the river, where 
wood and water were more plentiful and available. 

The regiment led the brigade and the brigade the corps, and 
at six o'clock was out on the well-trodden road that ran beside 
the railway, forging ahead, amid clouds of dust, directly to- 
wards the river. 

General Griffin, temporarily absent, had been succeeded for 

(335) 



— 336 — 

the time by General Joseph J. Bartlett, an officer distinguished 
for his splendid fighting qualities, a former brigade and division 
commander of the 6th Corps. Rumor had the 6th Corps also 
on the move on a road well to the right and far in advance. 

Invigorated by the cool, bracing autumn morning, alert and 
active, the men stepped out smartly and willingly, yet wholly 
unsuspicious that the day would close in the glories of a suc- 
cessful and well-fought fight. 

The route, familiar from repeated marches, had no new or 
fresh attractions. Bealton Station had entirely disappeared. 
Its buildings burned, railroad track, ties and telegraph-poles 
destroyed, it was a wreck of its former self. Destruction and 
ruin of all telegraph and railroad facilities had, as far as pos- 
sible, followed the track of the Potomac army when Lee so 
recently hustled it back unceremoniously from its late advanced 
position on the Rapidan. 

About noon the right of the column ascended a wooded 
ridge which rose abruptly from and terminated the level plain, 
over which the march of the morning had been conducted. 
On the left of the railway the ridge descended again to another 
plain, which extended to the river. Here the column halted 
with the right ( 1 1 8th Pennsylvania) resting on the railroad, 
the division deploying in line of battle to the left, the other 
divisions of the corps as they arrived extending the line in that 
direction. 

The 6th Corps was already on the ground, in position to the 
right of the railroad, which here for some distance passed 
through a deep cut. In front of the 6th Corps there was a slight 
ascent, the base lightly timbered. It rose gradually until it ter- 
minated at the river in quite an eminence. On this eminence, 
out of sight of our line of battle, was a lunette work manned 
by a strong force of infantry supporting a battery of brass twelve 
pounders. The garrison were not aware of our approach. The 
work covered the high trestle railroad bridge spanning the river 
at Rappahannock Station and a pontoon laid above it. This 
was apparently the enemy's extreme left, his right extending 



— 337 — 

by a heavy skirmish line on the left bank of the river in the 
direction of Kelly's Ford. 

The sun glistened on the long line of stacks to the left, and 
the men lay behind them in blissful ignorance of the near ap- 
proach of battle. Prompted by the cravings of an appetite but 
poorly appeased with an unsatisfactory and hurried breakfast, 
the soldiers betook themselves to the preparation of a little 
coffee. Soon the smoke of individual fires curled upwards, and 
as they were observed from the different head-quarters, staff 
officers dashed off rapidly in every direction and ordered their 
immediate extinction. Disappointed, the men yielded com- 
placently to the inevitable and, quieting their hunger with hard 
bread, reflected that if a fire could not be built at high noon 
there must be somebody pretty close whose purposes were un- 
friendly. 

A sergeant whose inquisitiveness was only equalled by his 
bravery — and he was very brave — slipped out of the lines and 
ascended the hill in front, cautiously. He soon returned, and 
told those nearest to him that the enemy were in force and for- 
tified some distance beyond. While he was yet speaking, the 
stretcher-bearers and ambulances passed through the line from 
the rear to the front, and the presence of these forerunners of 
suffering made it plain to all that a fight was imminent. 

Soon the order to " fall in " brought the men to attention, 
and the officers were ordered to the front and centre for special 
instructions from the commandant. Captain Sharwood in- 
formed them that the enemy was strongly intrenched just 
beyond the ridge on the left bank of the river, and that General 
Sedgwick, who had been assigned to the command of the 5th 
and 6th Corps, had already given directions to carry the works- 
The officers rejoined their companies, adjusted the alignement, 
and after a further delay to permit the left of the corps to swing 
around and if possible envelop the enemy's right, at about 
three o'clock the order was given to " load," followed immedi- 
ately by an advance. 

Descending the further slope of the ridge, the line halted. A 



— 338 - 

wide, extended plain, without tree, bush or knoll, was in view 
in every direction, terminating on the right in the slope and 
eminence on the other side of the railway. The extensive and 
formidable works, a mile to the front, were plainly observable. 
The guns in the work that crowned the crest to the right com- 
manded the entire plain. A line of rifle-pits extended from it 
towards Kelly's Ford. The plain was covered with a heavy 
growth of dry, thick grass, above which, as they knelt or lay 
prone at their posts, the heads and pieces of the skirmish line 
could be distinctly seen. It was the intention to carry the 
works with the skirmishers if possible, and with that in view 
the line had been doubled. Beyond, some five hundred yards, 
were the enemy's skirmishers. The lines lay watching each 
other without exchanging shots. It was not intended ours 
should open, unless forced to, until the general advance began. 
The guns, too, remained silent, apparently awaiting opportunity 
for a better range. 

It was a stirring sight. The sun, slowly sinking, glistened 
on the bright barrels of the muskets far away to the left as the 
line swept around in graceful curve almost to the river. Both 
regimental standards were unfurled, and there was wind enough 
to float them even when the line was not in motion. With all 
this taunt the enemy still maintained silence. 

The right of the regiment, which was still the right of the 
corps, rested on the railway, without crossing it. General 
Sykes now rode to the front of the regiment and, inquiring for 
the commanding officer, gave Captain Sharwood, in a tone to 
be heard through the command, specific directions that under 
no circumstances was he to cross the railroad ; that the other 
side was reserved exclusively for the troops of the 6th Corps 
who, charged with some specially delicate duty, must under no 
consideration be interfered with, and with some severity con- 
cluded with an intimation that the consequences of any failure 
to fully comply with these instructions would personally fall 
upon the captain. He pluckily accepted the responsibility — it 
was his first essay with a regimental command in action — and 



— 339 — 

expressed his willingness to bear the brunt, should he fail to 
discharge it. The color sergeant was charged not to swerve 
from his point of direction, and it was no fault of the sergeant 
that the instructions subsequently failed somewhat of complete 
fulfilment. 

The left brigade of the 6th Corps, on the other side of the 
railway, in which was our sister regiment, the 119th Penn- 
sylvania, and upon which subsequently fell the heaviest work 
of the day, was commanded by Colonel P. C. Ellmaker. As 
General Sykes rode away for better opportunity for observation, 
he took his position for a time immediately in front of it. 

"Forward, guide centre, march ! " now rang out simultaneously 
along the entire line. The skirmishers, the 20th Maine, rising 
from the tall grass, began their advance with a vigorous volley, 
to which the enemy lost no time in replying. It was a glorious 
pageant of real war. Rarely is the sight seen of an advanc- 
ing line so extended, all in view, and under fire at the same 
time. 

Upon the other side of the railroad were the heavy masses 
concealed from the enemy's view, arrayed in charging columns, 
while upon ours was the single line of battle stretched out for 
a mile or more in full sight, evidently intended to draw the fire 
while the charging columns concealed by the timber assaulted 
the earthwork. The setting sun flung a mellow glow over the 
landscape, and the mica dust covering the uniforms sparkled in 
its golden hues, and the gentle beauty of the scene made it 
impossible, for the moment, to believe that a battle was begin- 
ning. 

A puff of smoke appeared from a single gun on the crest, 
and a well-directed shell, striking some twenty paces in front of 
the regiment, ricochetted, passed over head and burst well to 
the rear. Another and another quickly followed, all aimed well 
and bursting in such uncomfortable proximity that dust and 
gravel stung the faces and sprinkled the clothing of the men. 
Steadily, and with as perfect an alignement as if on parade, the 
regiment moved forward towards the forts. The brightly 



— 340 — 

gleaming musket barrels, the men with their bronzed, deter- 
mined faces, shoulder to shoulder, the firm step of the moving 
line, the visible defiance of danger, formed a part of the grand 
picture not to be forgotten. The colors seemed the point on 
which the gunners drew their sights. They were repeatedly 
struck, but stanchly the bearer bore his standard nobly onward. 
Both solid shot and shell hurtled, whistled and flew about in a 
reckless way. The fragments of exploded shells brought to 
mind the bitter experiences of other fields. 

McCandless, of K, was the first man struck. A piece of shell 
took off his foot at the ankle-joint. McCandless meant to do 
well, but he was getting old, and his years and ailments would 
not allow his body to respond to his will. He had lost so 
many muskets, when missing from the ranks, that Crocker, his 
company commander, to teach him a gun had value, ultimately 
charged one against him on the pay-roll. As the stretcher 
bearers bore the poor old fellow to the rear, he still clung vig- 
orously to his piece and seemed content to lose his leg if he 
could keep his musket. 

The firing was now telling disastrously on the left, and the 
pressure from that direction was so great that Davis, a corporal 
of the color guard, severely wounded, was carried along for 
some distance before the ranks could be made to yield suffi- 
ciently to let him drop out. 

It was clear that unless relieved from this continued pressure 
the right must lose its line of direction on the railway and be 
forced across it, which presently occurred. Sharwood was 
vexed. With earnest gestures, in a loud voice he called out 
again and again, " The guide is left ! The guide is left ! " Fi- 
nally some one in the ranks, who could not restrain his pro- 
pensity even at such a time, replied, " No, he isn't ; he's being 
pushed right along with the rest of us." It was neither the 
fault of Sharwood nor of the regiment. The pressure began 
from a point beyond their control, and when it reached them 
was irresistible. But unchecked, the advance continued in the 
face of a still more rapid fire of both large and small arms. 



— 34i — 

The colors never left the plain, never swerved from the point 
of true direction. 

A ditch hidden by the tall, rank grass lay directly in the path 
of the advance and, without a warning of its presence, the line 
was floundering knee-deep in its green and slimy water. The 
disappearance of the skirmish line, as it passed through it, had 
not been noticed. The men were soon upon the thither side 
and the obstruction forgotten. 

But the enemy's gunners were not to have it all to them- 
selves. They had had time enough to severely punish the in- 
fantry. From the rear, at a rushing gallop, with drivers lashing 
their steeds at every jump and gunners mounted on the limbers, 
came a battery of brass twelves. Unlimbering in an instant, 
its rapid, well-directed fire threw up the dust on the earthworks 
at every discharge, and for the moment the enemy's gunners 
fell back. When they resumed firing, their fire was directed 
not toward the line of infantry, but upon the offending battery; 
but the fire soon subsided. The line of battle of the 5th Corps 
halted, and now the attention of the enemy was wholly directed 
to an effort to repel one of the most brilliant, sweeping, spirited 
and successful assaults of the war. 

Covered by the timber, the assaulting column had been 
formed of the 5th Wisconsin and 6th Maine as a double skir- 
mish line, supported by the 49th and 119th Pennsylvania in 
line of battle. These regiments composed Russell's 3d Brigade, 
1st Division, of the 6th Corps, temporarily commanded by 
Colonel Ellmaker, of the 119th Pennsylvania. General Sedg- 
wick's assignment to the two corps had advanced General 
Wright to the command of the 6th and General Russell to the 
division. 

The skirmishers, who had been concealed by the same ditch 
which had astonished the men of the 5th Corps, now deployed. 
From the ditch the bald slope rose rather boldly until it termi- 
nated in the eminence on which were the guns which had so 
severely pounded us. 

To the scolding skirmish fire was now added desperate vol- 



— 342 



leys from the infantry garrison ; 



• canister and grape were sub- 







\ ^ 

\ ■ K 




5> 



"GOING INTO ACTION." 

stituted for shot and shell, and guns and musketry poured their 



— 343 — 

deadly charges into the advancing line. It was the work of a 
moment, but the line suffered severely. The deadly effect of 
the fire materially thinned the ranks of the heroic men who 
bore the brunt of the assault. Closing the intervals in the 
skirmish line and the gaps in the line of battle, the advance 
swept forward until the abandoned works and the deserted 
guns were in their possession. But the works were not wholly 
deserted. An officer of the 6th Maine despatched a little 
Louisiana artillery lieutenant, who was lingering after the 
others had gone, and was just about to pull the lanyard of a 
shotted howitzer. 

" Drop that lanyard ! " shouted the 6th Maine officer. The 
Louisianian refused, and his life paid the forfeit. Many brave 
fellows into whose faces the muzzle of the gun was pointed 
were saved from wounds and death. 

This was probably the bright, smooth-faced youth, with skin 
as clear and blood as pure as one in early infancy, who lay 
dead beside a gun trail. Some rude creature had promptly re- 
moved his boots. His foot wasn't the size of a fourteen-year- 
old boy's, and what practical purpose those boots would serve 
was certainly doubtful. 

The 20th Maine, still flushed with the memories of its gal- 
lant deed at Round Top, not to be outdone by the better 
opportunity for distinction offered its brethren, were by the side 
of the others the instant the works were taken. 

The garrison, driven from their works and cut off from their 
pontoon, retreated, still in goodly numbers, to a thick copse of 
timber to their left and our right. From there a persistent and 
destructive fire told severely on the flank of the troops, who,, 
yet unsupported, held the captured works. But Upton's brig- 
ade was speedily upon them, and men and guns and standards 
were all yielded as the trophies of the fight just as the evening 
twilight shimmered into the shadowy darkness. 

General Russell and Colonel Allen, of the 5th Wisconsin, 
were both wounded. Line officers and enlisted men were killed 
and disabled in numbers largely disproportionate to the force 
engaged and time employed in the operation. 



— 344 — 

The results of the affair were 1,500 prisoners, four guns and 
seven battle-flags. Congratulatory orders from army and corps 
head-quarters suitably recognized the gallantry and efficiency 
of the storming party. General Russell was specially assigned 
to deliver the captured colors to the War Department. With 
his usual modesty and indisposition for display, it was currently 
reported that, finding the secretary employed, he bundled up 
his sacred treasure and, noting its contents' upon the outside, 
hurried to the front again in spite of his wound, and left with- 
out even presenting himself in person to the head of the war 
office. 

It was quite manifest after the struggle had closed that the 
martial line and fluttering, defiant standards of the 5th Corps, 
so prominently displayed upon the plain, were intended to at- 
tract the enemy's attention while the columns meant for the 
deadly work of the assault were massing concealed by the hill- 
side. It was rough handling for a parade occasion, but the 
honors achieved by the daring and determined action of our 
brother soldiers compensated for the inconvenience. 

The prisoners were of Early's division, Ewell's corps, the 
famous Louisiana Tigers and Hoke's brigade of North Caro- 
lina troops, all commanded by a Colonel Godwin. 

The Louisianians, consulting largely a prospective improve- 
ment of diet, did not seem to be seriously discomfited. " Boys," 
shouted one, " we are all going to Washington to live on soft 
bread and fresh beef," and thereupon, with happy unanimity, 
the rest chorused his sentiment with approving cheers. 

General Sykes, after the fight, took Captain Sharwood to 
task roundly for permitting himself to be forced across the rail- 
way. The captain, greatly elated over the result of the fight, 
responded : " General, if the devil himself had been in command 
he could not have prevented the men yielding to the over- 
whelming pressure from the left that forced them from their 
position." 

" Well," said the general, smiling at the odd way in which 
the captain relieved himself from his responsibility, " if that 



— 345 



powerful personage could have done no better, it certainly 
exonerates you from censure or reproof." 

Captain Sharwood had conducted himself heroically. He 
managed his trust with a skill and sagacity that fully compen- 
sated for his lack of experience as a regimental commander. 
He had secured the unbounded confidence of his soldiers and 
won a respect and esteem that would have followed him 
through what promised to be a most successful military career; 
but his race was nearly run. Shortly after the fight, typhoid 
fever seized him in its most virulent form. Hurried expediti- 
ously from the front, 
he died as he was be- 
ing borne uncon- 
scious into his resi- 
dence, on the 2 1st 
of November, 1863. 
Captain Sharwood 
entered the service 
prompted solely by 
a pure spirit of patri- 
otism and had en- 
deared himself to a 
large circle of mili- 
tary friends. His 
superiors trusted 
him; his soldiers ad- 
mired him. He was 

a man of culture and captain dendy sharwood. 

refinement, and with his bright intelligence he had promptly 
grasped and discharged the new and trying duties of his sol- 
dier's life. 

It was indistinguishable darkness when everything was over. 
Too late or tired for supper, moved to a patch of adjacent tim- 
ber, the weary soldiers promptly sought in sleep the rest they 
so much needed. 

A visit to the captured entrenchments when the morning 




— 346 — 

dawned showed the usual debris found on all baule-fields. 
Canteens, haversacks, muskets, harness, cannon, limbers, and 
other articles not military, such as trinkets, mementos and 
diaries, lost by the wounded or abandoned in the hurry of a 
sudden and forced departure, were the silent witnesses of quick 
work and unexpected retreat. The earthwork itself gave evi- 
dence of a severe pounding. The view from the parapet was 
complete over the entire plain. The most indifferent artillerist 
could not have failed of effective practice. 

An adjutant of one of the regiments in the assaulting column 
had his horse killed in this action. The ball had entered the 
stomach and bowels. The adjutant had heard the thud, but as 
the animal did not stagger, he could not conceive that it was 
his horse that had been hit, and rode him through the rest of 
the engagement and well into the darkness. In the act of dis- 
mounting, in the rear of his regiment, the horse rolled over and 
kicked out as if suffering from some internal disorder. It so 
happened that this occurred in rear of a company composed 
entirely of Pennsylvania Dutch, all of them farmers and well 
acquainted with horses. Summoning one of them to his aid, 
the adjutant gave instructions to bleed the horse for the colic. 
The Dutchman, more skilful than his officer, before executing 
the directions, began a diagnosis. Feeling around the body 
of the horse in the darkness, he came across the wound, and 
inserting his finger its full length, announced the result of his 
investigation by remarking: " Odjutant, dot horse no colic got; 
vot ails him is he is dead ; dere vos a ball gone clean through." 
The trusty brute had kept his feet to the last, and then rolled 
over and expired. 

A general officer of division of the 5th Corps, with whose 
habits in battle his staff had not yet become fully acquainted, 
was out upon the skirmish line, while the skirmishers were 
actively engaged, closely observing the enemy through his 
field-glasses. The group receiving more than their fair share 
of attention, one of the staff ventured to remark : " General, are 
you aware you are on the skirmish line ? " 



- 347 — 

" Fully, sir, fully," was the general's quick response. " Gen- 
tlemen, you have my permission to retire and seek whatever 
cover or protection your tastes or inclinations dictate. Come, 
orderly, you and I will attend to the rest of this business." 

The cut was keen ; of course they did not retire, but stuck it 
out manfully, each one vying with the other as to which could 
expose himself the most recklessly. 

The next day after Rappahannock Station General Bartlett 
brought the entire brigade under discipline. Rations had be- 
come lamentably short. It was not unusual on such occasions 
when any mounted officer appeared to set up a universal shout 
of "hard tack." General Bartlett happened in the vicinity of 
the brigade. He was mistaken for the commissary, and pierc- 
ing yells of " hard tack, fresh beef, coffee," followed him out of 
hearing. He remembered it though, and for this little iniTOcent 
amusement the punishment was that each regiment should be 
drilled in battalion manoeuvres until the division commander 
ordered a cessation. A " hard tack " and not a " Hardie " drill 
the men styled it. The general was in such a mood that he 
would have continued the exercises into the darkness if a sud- 
den order to move had not prevented. By the time another 
opportunity was at hand for resumption full rations had 
arrived, well-lined stomachs created a better feeling, and the 
old offence passed into forgetfulness. 

The effect of this Rappahannock Station success seemed to 
have worked some little enthusiasm into the now non-demon- 
strative army. Within a few days General Meade, or "Old 
Four-eyes," as he was still familiarly called in his absence, ap- 
pearing in the vicinity of one of the divisions of the 5th Corps, 
was received with rousing, approving and appreciative cheers. 

On the 8th the brigade moved to Kelly's Ford, crossed the 
river there and bivouacked some five miles beyond. On the 
afternoon of the 9th it returned to Kelly's Ford, recrossed the 
river during the evening and went into bivouac in the vicinity 
of the wagon-train park. On the 10th position was shifted to 
a more favorable site in a neighboring belt of timber. It had 



— 348 



snowed on the 8th, and cold, bitter winds followed the storm. 
This camp was not distant from that spot of pleasant memories 
and associations, in the vicinity of Gold Farm, where the regi- 
ment had remained for a week or so just preceding the Gettys- 
burg campaign. On the 19th the camp near Kelly's Ford was 
broken, the river again crossed and a camp established at Paoli 
Mills, on the banks of a stream which appeared to bear the 
neighborhood designation of Mountain Run. It empties into 
the Rappahannock just below Kelly's Ford, and the mill is situ- 
ated a few miles from its month. 

Here the Confederates had 
been for some time encamped, 
with the evident expectation 
of a winter occupancy. Their 
quarters had been substan- 
tially constructed. The work- 
manship was good ; shingles 
covered the roof instead of 
canvas. Hinged doors and 
window sashes, with glass, 
were decided improvements 
on the winter homes of the 
Union soldiers. It was rather 
surprising that when the ene- 
my abandoned these homes 
they had not destroyed them, 
but with the exception of 
what had been probably a 
very scant supply of furni- 
ture, which had been removed, they were as complete as when 
occupied. 

At this camp Captain Charles H. Fernald met with an acci- 
dent which resulted in a broken leg. It necessitated his with- 
drawal from the front temporarily, and he was sent home for 
treatment. 

And here Major Henry O'Neill, returning from his detail to 




MAJOR AND BREVET LIEUTENANT- 
COLONEL HENRY O'NEILL. 



— 349 — 

the Philadelphia draft rendezvous, with his commission in that 
rank, assumed, in the absence of the other field-officers, com- 
mand of the regiment. 

The major was somewhat elated with this new and prominent 
rank. With a courage that never flinched, and distinguished 
for bravery, he lacked some of the requirements indispensable 
to the proper discharge of the high responsibilities of his new 
station. He had been advanced by virtue of his seniority. 
His promotion received no distinctive announcement of 
approval. There was no outspoken complaint, but many 
serious mutterings of apprehension. His known inaptitude for 
command, except in courage and willingness, was a source 
of much anxiety. His readiness to accept suggestions,- his 
profound respect for his superiors, it was conceived would 
carry him with reasonable success through the campaign which 
it was then pretty well understood would shortly open. Nor 
was the major disposed to be rigorous, overbearing, offensive 
or dogmatic. He felt that he was in some measure lacking in 
military qualifications, and except where his personal prejudices 
carried him beyond propriety was ready to receive advice and 
counsel. He had not forgotten the quaint pronunciation of the 
land of his nativity. His Celtic speech was quite apparent, and 
his mode of expression, whether meant to be humorous or 
intended to be serious, was always provocative of laughter. 

The major was the feature of the Mine Run campaign. The 
many mistakes he made, the narrow margin he at one time left 
for his entire command between freedom and captivity, and his 
ultimate displacement with his full acquiescence by the lieuten- 
ant-colonel of another regiment, make it essential that he should 
be fully and fairly understood as a man and an officer. 

O'Neill has long since been gathered to his fathers. He 
served his country faithfully. Absolutely without fear, he was 
a striking figure in every engagement, from none of which save 
two was he absent. He remained with his colors to the very 
end, and, upon his return to civil life, was appointed to positions 
of trust and confidence. He died with the esteem and respect 



— 35o — 

of those whom he served, and with the affection and regard of 
his surviving military associates. He had only failed as a regi- 
mental commander. This place he never sought, and when it 
was thrust upon him at a trying moment, he gracefully conceded 
his inefficiency and cordially yielded to the necessity for his 
withdrawal, but insisted upon his right to still measure swords 
with the foe. " Do with me," said he, " what best suits your 
judgment. You may deprive me of any command, but not of 
my right to fight, and that I will do wherever you may place 
me." 

The major's first public appearance in the garb of his increased 
rank attracted considerable attention. It was flashy and gaudy, 
of a style apparently his own, and new and bright, strangely in 
contrast with the rough, well-worn garments and insignia of his 
brother officers. His cap, on the top and around the brim, was 
braided with rows of gold tinsel, and broad gold stripes adorned 
his trousers. A tight double-breasted jacket, mounted with 
most gorgeous shoulderstraps, with the sleeves braided to the 
elbow, fitted his body jauntily. The enormous legs of his boots 
extended almost to his hips, a bright scabbard, fine Damascus 
blade, and shining spurs completed his appointments. The of- 
ficers gathered about him in amazement at such magnificence, 
and mildly suggested that he had violently abused the " bill of 
dress " in arraying himself in such unusual raiment. He in- 
sisted that it was " regulation," and defended his taste for dis- 
play by reference to his early training whilst on duty with the 
British Indian contingent. 

" This was the way we used to dress in Injee," said he, 
humorously, with quaint Celtic accent, " and it was a beautiful 
sight entirely to see the ' callants ' " — a term of his own for the 
British officers — " paraded on occasion of state. I disremember 
just when it was, but it was when the governor-general made 
a Mason of the rajee. The liftenant- general in command was 
kivered with his medals and his medallions and his sash and 
his plumes, and the foot and the horse and 'the artillery were 
out in full rigimentals. The rajee came down with his camels 



— 35i — 

and his aliphants and his whole ratinew, and there was bowing 
and scraping and damn humbugging over the owld divil, until 
our regiment was reached, and then at command they let out 
of them such a screech that it made the aliphants cock up their 
trunks and trumpet like the divil, and made the camels and the 
whole ratinew fooster and fumble and tremble at Her Majestie's 
Foot. Och ! there was a divil of a time," and so he dismissed 
all the adverse comments, seemingly conscious that his happy 
illustration had conquered the prejudices of his American as- 
sociates. The ridicule which for a while everywhere greeted 
his appearance sorely taxed the patience of his brother officers, 
but in their attempts to criticise him they were likely to wind 
up with explosions of laughter. 

About this time a review of the battalion was ordered, at 
which the major constituted himself both commandant and re- 
viewing officer. He appeared mounted, his trousers hidden al- 
most completely by his " seven-league boots " and with his sword 
at a right-shoulder-shift, his favorite way of carrying that weapon, 
he dashed madly to the right of the regiment. All the earlier 
ceremonies of present arms, opening ranks, stirring music, the 
personal observation of front and rear rank, were omitted. The 
major's habit was to run his commands together with such 
rapidity that the words were scarce distinguishable, concluding 
with the command of execution — that he always had right — 
in a high and piercing key. Better probably that he did, for 
that alone indicated the movement. The cautionary directions 
were altogether of his own manufacture. He disdained to be 
cramped by adherence to the tactics. Familiarity with his 
methods, and general knowledge of what he proposed to accom- 
plish, extricated the battalion from staggering difficulties. On 
this occasion he had announced the review, but continued him- 
self in command. From the right he began the ceremony with : 
" Break into open column of companies right in front the kiver- 
ing sergeants will be responsible for the distance — ' march,' " 
and then seeing fhe column properly in motion, hurried off to 
take his place as the reviewing officer. Having passed in 



— 352 — 

creditable shape, the leading captain was conducting the col- 
umn to its place preparatory to the formation of line for the 
concluding " present," when, tired of the operation, or believing 
that it had really ended, O'Neill suddenly broke up the affair 
with the startling and unheard-of command in stentorian tones: 

" Halt ! disperse, and be d d to you ! Every man to his 

quarters at once." 




CAPTAIN JOHN R. WHITE. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



MINE RUN. 




INE RUN is an in- 
considerable stream 
flowing northward 
and emptying into 
the Rapidan at Mit- 
chell's Ford. Its 
precipitous, rocky, 
wooded banks are 
themselves formid- 
able, and strength- 
ened, as its left bank 
was, by strong earth- 
works, the dislodgement of the enemy by direct assault from 
that position, in a season of biting cold, long nights and short 
days, was soon determined to be wholly impracticable except 
at a loss disproportionate to the results expected. 

The enemy's works faced east and extended to the southward. 
His left rested near the Rapidan ; his right in the vicinity of 
Hope Church. It was designed to draw him into action before 
he was secure in the occupancy of this position. With this in 
view, the army was divided into three columns, the first or 
right column, consisting of the 3d (French) and 6th Corps 
(Sedgwick), the former leading, was to cross the Rapidan at 
Jacob's Mill Ford ; the second or centre column, consisting of 
the 2d Corps (Warren), was to cross at GermannaFord, and the 
third or left column, composed of the 1st (Newton) and 5th 
Corps (Sykes), at Culpepper Mine Ford. The march of this 
left column, directed towards Parker's Store, a name which 
23 (353) 



— 354 — 

grew to greater familiarity in the next campaign, was neces- 
sarily the most extended. The right and centre columns were 
to rendezvous in the vicinity of Robertson's Tavern. 

The 2d Corps was at the rendezvous at the appointed time, 
but French, who was leading the two right corps, stumbled on 
the wrong road, struck the enemy in some force in the vicinity 
of Locust Grove, and after something of a tussle, in which both 
sides suffered considerable loss, finally straightened himself 
out and reached his rendezvous twenty-four hours too late. 

Foiled by French's blunder in what bid fair to be a real sur- 
prise, a change of plan was necessitated and Warren was sent 
to strike beyond the enemy's extreme right near the head of 
the run. Too little of daylight was left to attempt the assault 
after the columns were disposed for it, and the operation was 
suspended till the dawn. Meantime the enemy had not been 
idle. During the night he so strengthened and extended his 
fortifications that when daylight revealed their increased and 
formidable proportions General Warren deemed the enterprise 
too hazardous an undertaking to warrant his attempting it. The 
nipping cold had become intense. Every soldier hit would 
have probably died on the field, and Warren, believing that his 
commanding officer would sustain his action, heroically declined 
to fire the guns which were to announce the general assault, 
and so with a few indifferent skirmishes, and the affair at the 
Grove and Robinson's Tavern, and an occasional artillery duel, 
the Mine Run lines were abandoned, and what promised to be 
a fairly successful campaign passed into history without a 
battle. 

And now for the narrative as it chiefly bears upon the per- 
formances of the 1 1 8th Pennsylvania in this the last of its field 
operations in the waning days of the stirring and eventful year 
1863. 

The camp at Paoli Mills was broken at seven o'clock on the 
morning of the 26th of November, and rationed for ten days, 
and with ammunition trains only, the column commenced 
its march towards the Rapidan, crossing it at Culpepper 



— 355 — 

Mine Ford. It was a lonesome, dreary tramp. Save where 
the route lay along the Stevensburg Plank Road, it was by 
narrow roadways through dark, dense forests so thick with 
undergrowth as to be impenetrable to the eye beyond a few 
yards from the roadside. It was a tedious and wearisome day, 
and its work was not completed until ten at night, when the 
tired troops were halted, as far as their limited geographical 
advantages permitted them to judge, somewhere in the vicinity 
of the Wilderness Tavern. 

On the 27th the regiment was detailed as flankers, a duty 
which threw it well to the left of the column, and devolved 
upon its commanding officer a delicate, important and critical 
responsibility. This the major sufficiently realized to admin- 
ister to his officers before the movement began a few words of 
caution, advice, and instruction. " This," said he, " is an im- 
portant 'juty :' the enemy may be upon us at any moment. 
We are far out in his country, and there are no troops to the 
left of us ; it behooves you, gentlemen, therefore to ' look sharp ' 
and not be ' marking time ; ' " and turning to Captain Kelly, 
which intelligent officer had unhappily fallen under his dire dis- 
pleasure, he continued : " Kelly, you'll just be after keeping on 
the line, and not be prancing about picking out dry places — but 
mind and look sharp, Kelly." Captain Kelly, neat and dapper 
in his appearance, had been in the habit on the march of avoid- 
ing, if there was opportunity, pools of mud and water that inter- 
fered with his notions of personal cleanliness. It was a knowl- 
edge of this, probably, that induced the major, who was of 
opinion that a soldier should shun nothing, to be unduly severe 
on him. 

To Donaldson was specially assigned the centre, to Donegan 
the left, while the major assumed the control and supervision 
of the right. The deployment was effected with some irregu- 
larity, and the march began at seven o'clock. Slow progress 
was made through the dense and thick underbrush and timber 
until the road on which the main column was moving inter- 
sected the Fredericksburg and Orange Plank Road. Here the 



— 356 — 

column turned abruptly to the right into the Plank Road, the 
flankers conforming their movements to the new direction. 

The centre of the flankers was well around in the change of 
direction, when loud noise and apparent confusion in the 
marching column attracted such general attention as to in- 
stinctively cause a halt. The column itself was not in sight, 
but the commands " halt," " front," " steady there," " load at 
will," " load," came from it in loud and distinct tones, and then 
away off to the right a single cannon shot boomed sullenly ; 
then there was rapid musketry firing for a moment and all was 
quiet again. 

The disturbance arose from a daring and partially successful 
attempt to steal the wagon train. The train was moving par- 
allel with the troops. When the leading wagon reached the 
Plank Road, where it should have turned to the right, two ex- 
pert fellows, who had adroitly concealed themselves, sprang 
from the timber and, mounting beside the driver, with levelled 
pistols compelled him to continue in the same direction. The 
others, who had not seen what had taken place, naturally fol- 
lowed. No one in the vicinity had any other instructions ex- 
cept to follow, and no one knew that the train was not pur- 
suing the course marked out for it until Captain Bankson, the 
brigade inspector, observing it winding over the hills away 
outside of the lines, set himself about to inquire the cause, 
and return the straggling trains if possible to their place. 
Meanwhile the enemy, who lay concealed in small force await- 
ing the result of the ruse they had practiced, becoming alarmed 
at their own temerity, opened fire on the mules, killing them 
promiscuously, and then made their escape. This was the 
musketry that had attracted attention when the column and 
the flankers halted. There were no animals to bring the 
wagons back again. The delay in procuring others to replace 
those shot, and detaching troops to protect the wagons in the 
interval, was not deemed to be warranted by the small loss at- 
tending their destruction, and besides, as the enemy was be- 
lieved to be near in considerable strength, Captain Bankson 



— 357 — 

assumed the responsibility, and by his direction some fifteen or 
twenty wagons were destroyed. 

The enemy singly and in small detachments seemed to have 
worked his way close up to and occasionally inside our lines. 
He was evidently, at great personal risk, in search of informa- 
tion as to the purpose and direction of a campaign which had 
apparently so far baffled him. 

Lieutenant-Colonel Sherwin, 22d Massachusetts, noticing a 
cavalryman closely buttoned in a Union great coat intently ob- 
serving the column, rode to him and, not receiving satisfactory 
responses to his interrogations, demanded he should open his 
coat and expose the uniform underneath. His hesitancy con- 
firmed the colonel's suspicions. He instantly drew his revolver, 
and with his other hand tore open the coat. Beneath was a 
Confederate uniform. Further parley was unnecessary ; a well- 
directed shot brought the career of the spy to a sudden termi- 
nation. His body lay where it fell, and many, as the column 
passed, to confirm the story which was soon abroad, dropped 
out to view it. This man had evidently been instructed among 
other things to count the numbers moving to the Union left. 
Unable to secure a satisfactory point of observation from a dis- 
tance, and deeming the duty of sufficient importance to warrant 
the risk, he took his life in his hands, and ventured once too 
often within the Union lines. Scouts and spies on both sides 
had always at hand sufficient clothing to elude investigation, 
except when too closely pressed. 

These affairs reflected materially upon the vigilance and 
sagacity of the flankers, but the major could not conceive that 
he was in any way responsible. Referring during the day, 
while the march still continued, to the capture of the wagon 
train, he said : " Where's that old woman Donegan, and what 
in the divil did he let the wagon train be captured for ? — 
the ould pirate." An officer ventured the reply that the 
blame could not be attached to Donegan, but the entire line 
was more or less directly involved in the blunder. This 
aroused the major. He considered that personally he had 



- 353 - 

been charged with delinquency and, turning abruptly on the 
officer who had ventured this wholesale condemnation of the 
management of the morning, said : " On me, is it ? to the divil 
with them ; do they think I was bothering about a lot of bush- 
wackers ? " and then subsiding a little and drifting off to his ever- 
paramount animosity to Kelly, continued : "And when did you 
see Kelly larst ? Och ! that Kelly is an ould divil ; tell him I 
want him ; I want to keep my eye upon him." And so, with 
an apparent complacent conviction that wherever blame might 
subsequently fall it must be upon Donegan and not upon him- 
self, he dismissed the subject entirely. 

Quiet restored, the march was resumed, the column still 
moving on the Plank Road. The flankers preserved the requi- 
site distance, more alert from the events of the morning, until 
they were suddenly plunged into the bed of an unfinished rail- 
way which ran parallel with the road. The cuts were in many 
places of a continuing depth of six feet and upwards, and along 
the entire route the banks rose high enough to practically cut 
off all opportunity for observation. What purpose flankers 
would serve, instructed to be vigilant, in such a place of con- 
cealment, was beyond the ken of those who had a reasonable 
comprehension of the duties of troops who were to be, for the 
time, the "eyes and ears of the army." 

When this had continued long enough to satisfy those in the 
rear that this path had not been taken to avoid obstacles and 
obstructions, several of the officers essayed to push forward and 
find the major. To move afoot along a column of flankers in 
motion requires many long and rapid strides. Eventually the 
major was reached, and when it was respectfully intimated that 
he was pursuing a most unusual course in conducting his troops 
by a route where they were wholly useless for the duties allotted 
them, he seemed to be decidedly of the opinion that it was the 
enemy's business to find him and not his to find the enemy. 
Remonstrated with seriously and besought to move his flankers 
to the rising ground upon his left, he persisted in continuing 
them where they were and could not be moved from his deter- 



— 359 — 

mination. It was while moving in this same cut, two days 
afterwards, a short distance beyond Hope Church, that Miles's 
division of the 2d Corps stirred up quite a skirmish. 

Darkness was now fast approaching and the column had not 
been seen or communicated with for some hours. O'Neill had 
failed to keep up his communications, but had been permitted, 
nevertheless, to wander along without being looked after, not- 
withstanding the direction had been changed to a point not in- 
tended when the march began in the morning. During the 
afternoon of the 27th the 1st and 5th Corps were withdrawn 
from Hope Church, on the Plank Road, the point to which the 
march had been directed, to Robertson's Tavern, on the Turn- 
pike, some miles to the north of it. Of this O'Neill was not 
advised, and it was a long time before he discovered that the 
column had left him, to make the Tavern, at some of the by- 
roads which connected the Turnpike with the Plank Road. 

Still in the cut, the flankers were halted and Thomas sent to 
communicate with the column. He travelled in the direction 
he supposed the right one, a mile or more, but his search was 
ineffectual. He saw nothing of the troops, heard nothing to 
indicate their whereabouts ; saw, in fact, nobody. Receiving 
the report of Thomas and his failure to discover either the 
troops or whither they had gone, the major immediately faced 
his flankers to the left and moved them as a skirmish line to a 
rising knoll about a mile distant. The location was near Hope 
Church, as was subsequently ascertained, and not far from the 
point where Warren two days afterwards formed his columns 
for the intended assault on the enemy's right. It was by no 
means a comfortable position ; a single regiment exposed with- 
out support, with no communication with other troops, nor a 
knowledge even of where they were, with a long winter's night 
before them. 

A prospect of a hard fight or wholesale capture in the morn- 
ing was certainly not conducive to the quiet repose to which a 
weary march had entitled the soldiers. Most commanders so 
situated would have utilized the hours of darkness for a means 



— 360 — 

of extrication before the break of dawn should reveal their weak 
and exposed position. Instead, O'Neill was determined to rest 
where he was and take his chances for withdrawal in the broad 
light of day. His better judgment may have been swerved by 
the very comfortable quarters which presented themselves in 
the shape of a cosy old house located on the top of the knoll 
and near which the right of his skirmish line rested. This he 
promptly announced, for that night at least, should be devoted 
to the uses and purposes of a regimental head-quarters. Tak- 
ing no thought of the gravity of the situation, with apparently 
no anxiety at the dangers attending his exposure, leaving direc- 
tion to have the line remain as it was, and to be wakened in 
case of alarm, and remarking that he was very weary, after a 
light bite, booted and spurred, he rolled himself into the best 
bed in the house and never awoke till the dawn of day aroused 
him. 

The house, locked, bolted and barred, had been apparently 
but recently abandoned. This conjecture, from these superfi- 
cial indications, was subsequently confirmed by actual investi- 
gation. Kelly and Walters proceeded to a closer examination. 
With a bayonet they pried open the shutter and Walters, raised 
on the shoulders of a couple of strong men, hoisted the sash 
and jumped into the total darkness that prevailed within. A 
sudden crash followed. Feeling his way cautiously to the front 
door he succeeded in unbolting it, and with the aid of the little 
daylight still left and a bit of candle fortunately at hand, Wal- 
ters discovered the obstruction that impeded his progress from 
the window-sill to the floor. An old-fashioned spinning-wheel 
was just beneath it, and his heavy jump had smashed it to a 
useless mass of rubbish. 

The house had indeed been but recently vacated. Upon the 
sideboard was a chicken, freshly cleaned, picked and ready for 
the fire. The table was set with bread newly cut, cups filled 
with coffee, or what had the appearance of it, and the family 
were evidently just about to sit down to their evening meal 
when the coming of this small body of troops, which they 



— 361 — 

doubtless mistook for the advance of the army, abruptly termi- 
nated their preparations. It was from what was spread upon 
the board O'Neill took his little bite. The presence of the 
fowl was concealed from him, and the dainty morsel cooked 
and disposed of later on, when he had wrapped himself in slum- 
bers. All present promptly applied themselves to the bread 
and coffee, heedless of the remark that insidious poison might 
lurk within, promising, however, an investigation and analysis 
when there was more leisure and less hunger. The kitchen 
ceiling was hung with strings of dried fruit. The floor of the 
loft was covered with walnuts, chestnuts, shellbarks and hick- 
ory nuts. The beds were neat and clean, well covered with 
quilts, upon which lay quite tasty blue and white counterpanes. 
Glowing embers still flickered in the old-fashioned fireplace ; 
fed with fresh logs and stirred with expert hands, they soon 
lightened into a ruddy, cheerful blaze. 

Relieving each other occasionally from their duties on the 
line, the officers utilized the opportunity the house afforded for 
enjoying its fire and partaking of its supplies. The situation 
seemed too perilous to warrant repose, and the night was spent 
about the roaring, blazing fire, cracking jokes and nuts and 
lunching at intervals on stewed fruit, chicken and the balance 
of the soft bread. Serious thoughts occasionally found utter- 
ance as to the careless content of the commanding officer, 
who snored away lustily, totally oblivious of his grave respon- 
sibilities. 

And so the night passed, followed by a dark and gloomy 
morning. Threatening clouds hung low, promising a heavy 
and early rainfall. 

It was not yet daylight when a good-sized pig came wander- 
ing along. He was sat upon instantly by one man, who held 
his feet as well. Another put both his hands firmly around his 
snout, that he might neither enter a protest nor make an appeal 
to the officers. Still another vainly endeavored to cut his throat 
with a jackknife that had been dulled by long use upon salted 
portions of the porker's relations. Captain Wilson made his 



— 362 — 

appearance. The trio suddenly remembered that the eating of 
pork was forbidden in the Scriptures. They rose quickly to 
their feet, and, kicking the pig, to signify their intense loathing, 
sent him off as a scapegoat into the wilderness. 

Off on the edge of a piece of timber, along a ridge of high 
ground in front, daylight revealed the enemy's cavalry deployed 
on a fairly strong skirmish line. Each side watched the other 
intently, neither seemingly disposed to press their investigations 
beyond what might be gleaned from distant and close observa- 
tion. A line of infantry skirmishers evidently deceived the 
enemy into the belief that it must, as it should, have had strong 
and available supports behind it. It was this belief that ulti- 
mately permitted us to move off unmolested. The men were 
anxiously watchful ; to their minds a determined dash of the 
enemy, although met by a volley that would empty a few 
saddles, must eventually result in our rout and capture. 

" I'll be blamed if Owld Teddy hasn't been attempting to 
effect a connection with the enemy's line," said one of the men, 
and so it did appear, for if any connections were to be made at 
all that was the only one in the neighborhood with which to 
connect. The officers, however, did not fear the dash so much 
as they did the probable discovery of the airy condition of the 
two flanks. It was quite evident from O'Neill's disposition 
he would have fought it out to a bitter end if he had been 
assaulted. 

" Major," respectfully observed a captain, "what do you pro- 
pose to do ? " 

" Observe the divils till further orders," was the very perti- 
nent reply. 

He would neither be cajoled, tricked or persuaded into doing 
anything, and there the line remained, anxious, watchful, im- 
patient until towards noon, when, evidently concluding that 
something must be attempted to relieve the perplexities of 
the situation, he gave the order to retire as skirmishers, shak- 
ing his fist towards the enemy as he did so and styling them 
a set of " dirty blackguards." Rain now began to fall heavily. 



— 3^3 — 

The movement had scarce commenced when the major came 
dashing- from the house in some excitement and commanded a 
halt. Some one had purloined a counterpane. He did not 
stop to inquire who, but, guided by his old antipathies, settled 
promptly on Kelly. " Bring it back, Kelly," said he, " and put 
it where you got it ; do you want them to think us a set of 
thieves and divils ? Put it back at once." It so happened he 
was not mistaken. Kelly had taken it. Prompted by the 
threatening weather or with the prospect of adorning his winter- 
quarters with more than usual splendor, he thought it very 
proper to levy a small contribution on the enemies of his 
country. 

" But, major," expostulated Kelly, " it is not wantonness, it's 
not thievery ; I am not marauding or pilfering ; I really need 
the thing." 

But the major would not be appeased. 

" Put it back, Kelly; do you mind? Put it back, sir;" and 
then aside : " that Kelly is a divil ; I would not be surprised if 
he had a flat-iron in each pocket, the thief of the world." 

Nor was the major disposed to favor Kelly by remaining 
long enough to give him opportunity to execute his directions. 
He started the line in one direction just as Kelly went off in 
the other, and by the time he had deposited his bundle and 
commenced his return he was forced to a decidedly rapid gait 
that he might not be left alone in very uncomfortably close 
relations to the enemy, now astir at the withdrawal. 

The storm, the good luck usually attending an Irishman's 
blunders, ultimately removed all the difficulties which for the 
time surrounded him, and, stumbling upon the right road, by 
three o'clock the major found himself safe within the limits of 
the brigade lines near Robertson's Tavern. 

The experiences of the past twenty-four hours, the gravity 
of the crisis in the affairs of the regiment, the eve of an impend- 
ing battle, had turned all thoughts to a serious comprehension 
of the situation, and there was a manifest desire to seek in con- 
sultation some way to meet the difficulties. With one accord, 



— 364 — 

without any preconcerted movement, the officers gathered 
about the bivouac fire for advice and counsel. There seemed 
but a single solution — O'Neill must be superseded. Respected 
for his courage, admired for his daring, the lingering hope that 
he might be guided safely through a crisis had wholly disap- 
peared with the experiences of the previous night. They recog- 
nized the official peril in which they placed their commissions 
by harboring such mutinous suggestions, but they resolved to 
face the responsibilities and assume the attendant risk by boldly 
and freely presenting the case for the earnest consideration of 
the brigade commander. 

At their solicitation Colonel Tilton, who had been partially 
advised of the pending difficulties, consented to hear the story 
of their grievances at their own bivouac fires, that nothing 
might be done or said in the absence of the major. He rode 
to where the group was in consultation and in encouraging, 
kindly tones inquired the cause of the disturbances. Crocker 
took up the story and fully and fairly told of the recent occur- 
rences. He was unstinting in his commendation of the major's 
courage, energies and endurance, but with all that there was 
such an inaptitude for intelligent direction as to essentially un- 
fit him for the high responsibilities of his office. Speaking for 
his fellows, Crocker earnestly urged that a field officer from the 
brigade be assigned temporarily to the command of the regi- 
ment until the one or the other of the major's superiors should 
return. O'Neill was present and received what had been said 
in meditative silence. 

" Well, gentlemen," said Colonel Tilton, who had listened 
patiently and attentively, " I recognize your difficulties, but I 
cannot refrain from an allusion to the very delicate and danger- 
ous ground upon which you are treading. Of this you were 
no doubt aware when you assumed to go so far as you have. 
I am satisfied the only motive that prompts the action you have 
taken is the maintenance of the excellent reputation your regi- 
ment has hitherto borne. Upon the eve of an impending battle 
the situation is certainly a critical one. I am therefore disposed 



— 365 — 

not to view the matter in the strict military sense in which it 
might deserve to be construed, and as I recognize the efficiency 
and excellence of the 11 8th, I am willing to lend my authority 
to relieve you from your embarrassments. Whom have you 
in mind as your choice for a commanding officer? " 

A unanimous response pronounced the name of Lieutenant- 
Colonel Throop, of the 1st Michigan. 

Colonel Tilton then withdrew and shortly returned accom- 
panied by Lieutenant-Colonel Throop. It was with great 
reluctance Colonel Throop left his own command. He could 
only be induced to do so in obedience to positive orders that 
he recognized were promulgated to meet a grave crisis in the 
affairs of a sister regiment, which did not seem to be otherwise 
controllable. Colonel Tilton permitted a condition to be at- 
tached to the acceptance of his detail, that Colonel Throop's 
assignment must be accompanied by unanimous acquiescence 
on the part of the entire body of officers of the 1 18th, and when 
Colonel Throop was presented his first inquiry was to that 
effect. To the united, hearty, affirmative response of all the 
rest, Major O'Neill added: "Certainly, sir, certainly ; I don't 
care under whom I serve so that he gives us a chance to 
fight. Certainly I will serve under you, and with pleasure, 
too, sir." 

This happy relief from anxiety, this satisfactory solution of 
difficulties which had reached such serious proportions, though 
the night was well on and the enemy quite close, was suita- 
bly recognized in exhilarating stimulants which a provident 
officer had fortunately at hand. Colonel Throop declining to 
participate retired to his own bivouac, and those whose defty 
hands were apt with the "Joe Hooker" formula were soon en- 
gaged in the concoction of its stimulating ingredients. Limited 
supplies forbade a free indulgence, and by midnight all fatigues 
and anxieties were forgotten in restful slumber. 

The morning broke clear and cold ; everything seemed quiet. 
One of the men, whose eyes were wandering around in search 
of anything that might appear, detected a persimmon tree 



- 366 - 

loaded with the frosted fruit some distance in front, between 
the Union and Confederate lines. To see was to desire. To 
desire was to attempt to obtain. Sneaking along under shelter 
of the bushes, the discoverer and another adventurer quietly 
and stealthily approached the tree. A careful scrutiny from its 
foot assured the pair that the Confederate pickets were quite a 
distance away. The discoverer silently climbed the tree and 
shook down a quantity of the fruit, which his companion hastily 
stowed in a haversack provided for that purpose. Another 
shake was given to the tree. It attracted attention. A single 
report rang out on the crisp air, a single zip flew past the oc- 
cupant of the tree ; he dropped on the ground like a flash. 
None too soon, for a volley crashed through and sent twigs 
and persimmons scattering down upon two prostrate figures 
who seemed to be not more than a couple of inches thick as 
they flattened themselves out on the ground. After a while 
the firing ceased. Then while one, on hands and knees, peered 
through a bush ready to give the alarm in case of further dan- 
ger, the other gathered the persimmons, that had been shaken 
down and shot down, into the haversack, and then, in the lan- 
guage of that old chestnut of a quotation, 

" They folded their tents like the Arabs, 
And silently stole away." 

Doubtless they would have stolen away as soon as the balls 
began to fly, but it was a question of discipline. The soldier 
without discipline is like a musket without a barrel, a pail 
without a bottom, a fish without fins, and a great number of 
worthless things. Now it was a serious breach of discipline to 
go beyond the lines without orders, and rendered the offender 
liable to a severe reprimand, or even a trial by court-martial for 
desertion. When the firing commenced, the enterprising pair 
were in a fix. They had hardly secured persimmons enough 
for their own consumption. There would be inquiries as to 
what had caused the firing. Under these circumstances their 
affection for their officers would not permit the men to return 
until they had obtained a fair share for them. 



— 367 — 

On reaching the lines safely, they offered up a couple of 
quarts of persimmons to discipline ; that is, the captain. He 
wisely asked no questions. His thoughts probably ran some- 
what in this fashion : " Those fellows have been outside of the 
lines again. They give me no end of trouble. I'll send the 
persimmons back and make an example of those two men. I 
might as well eat one or two, just to see how they taste. By 
George ! They're good ! A handful of them wont be missed. 
It was thoughtful of them to bring me these, and generous, too, 
to give me so many. Poor fellows ! they don't often get a 
chance to get anything like this. Oh, pshaw ! (or something 
stronger) I'll eat the persimmons up, and let the men go this 
time, but the very next act of disobedience must be punished.'* 
Discipline is a wonderful thing. 

The bullets from the volley caused by the persimmon hunters 
caused the regiment to scatter in every direction for shelter, 
but in a few moments they reformed in the railroad cut. De 
Ville, a member of Company K, who had been adjutant of a 
French regiment, remarked : " Ow queekly you make one, ven 
you ave broke all to pieces. If ze regiment vas French, one 
week would not zem togetter bring again." 

At seven o'clock on the morning of the 29th the brigade was 
advanced some two miles across country, until it reached the 
easterly ridge of the swale or valley through which flowed the 
run from which the campaign derived its name. Upon the 
thither ridge, distant some fifteen hundred yards, nearest to 
which was the stream, was the enemy, already strongly in- 
trenched upon the series of slopes of which it was formed. His 
work was not yet complete, and uninterrupted by the presence 
of the Union troops he continued with axe and spade, dirt and 
timber, until what were first most formidable field fortifications 
were made almost impregnable. He also demolished a few 
small houses which apparently interfered with the range of his 
guns. The enemy's ridge had a better elevation and com- 
manded ours. Roth were wooded ; the ground upon the other 
side of the run at the base of the western ridge was open, and 



3 68 — 



appeared at a distance to be soft and marshy. When the task 
was finished, the soldiers on the other side, on the parapet and 
the ground in front of the works, played at ball with a sportive 
vivacity that equalled boyhood energies. 

Again within the year since Fredericksburg, the Potomac 
army faced its whilom foe behind intrenchments dark, gloomy, 
formidable. The recollections of that field, its fatalities and 
sad disaster would not down. Though with serious convictions 
that the task was hopeless, there was still a high resolve to do 
and dare for the best.* 

Contrary to precedent 
the skirmishers were de- 
cidedly less active than 
was usual at the open- 
ing of an engagement. 
The early nightfall 
closed upon the scene, 
each side confident the 
business that brought 
them there would be 
settled on the morrow. 

With the darkness, 
there was a decided fall 
in the temperature. It 
was a bitter, nipping 
cold, so intense that 
upon portions of the 
line, more exposed than 
others, the pickets were 
relieved every thirty minutes, and instances were reported of 
men being frozen to death. 

* General Morgan, Inspector-General of the 2d Corps, relates the following in- 
cident : " While on the picket line reconnoitring, my uniform concealed by a sol- 
dier's overcoat, I asked an old veteran of the noble 1st Minnesota, on picket, what 
he thought of the prospect. Not recognizing me as an officer, he expressed him- 
self very freely, declaring it ' a d — d sight worse than Fredericksburg,' and adding, 
' I am going as far as I can travel, but we can't get more than two-thirds of the 
way up the hill.' " — Walker's " History of Second Army Corps," p. 383. 




— 369 — 

The combinations for the assault had been perfected during 
the afternoon. Warren, with his own corps and Terry's di- 
vision of the 6th, had been moved to the vicinity of Hope 
Church, near the head-waters of the run. Here the enemy, 
though securely posted, was in inconsiderable strength, and a 
little more of daylight would have permitted the formation of 
assaulting columns with which his right might have been ef- 
fectually turned. Night setting in before the arrangements 
were consummated, the attack was necessarily postponed until 
dawn. 

In the meantime, during the night there were numerous 
changes on our right for co-operation with Warren's morning 
-assault, and two of French's 3d Corps divisions were sent to 
aid him. Bartlett's (our) division was withdrawn from its posi- 
tion about 2 a. m. on the 30th, and moved some distance towards 
the right, forming on the left of the 6th Corps, in column doubled 
on the centre. The men were stripped for action, and the knap- 
sacks, piled upon each other arranged in the shape of a horse- 
shoe, were left in our former position in charge of Sergeant 
Stone with a detail. Some of the men, heedless of the bitter 
cold, also left their great coats. No fires were permitted and, 
with no means to raise the temperature, the men painfully 
awaited the break of day in that zero atmosphere anxious to 
accord a generous welcome to the genial rays of the morning 
sun. It was clear, and every star shone in all its winter bril- 
liancy against a sky deep in its cold, cerulean blue. 

Chaplain O'Neill remained with Sergeant Stone and the 
knapsacks. The Confederates, probably to keep the watches 
awake, sent a shell in their direction. The chaplain had made 
a pot of coffee. He was sipping it from a tincup, when the 
shell skimmed through the air, burst against a tree near him, 
and a fragment of it knocked the cup out of his hand. 

The troops were on the edge of a thick growth of pine. 

Dawn revealed a position more formidable than the one from 

the front of which the division had just been withdrawn. The 

distance between the two lines now was not over five hundred 

24 



— 3/0 — 

yards. All through the hours of darkness the sound of falling 
timber gave evidence of increasing strength to the enemy's 
works. The run had been dammed towards its mouth and its 
banks were flooded to river-like proportions. The ground 
upon the summit of which was the line to be assaulted, with 
the water extending to its base, ran at an angle of some thirty 
degrees, rough and bare and entirely barren of tree or timber 
of any sort. 

As yet there had been no specific directions for the ad- 
vance, no formal announcement of the hour for the charge. 
To fix a time alone was needed. That the works were to be 
charged, and who were to do it, had long before dawned upon 
soldier intelligence, previously whetted by other calamitous 
military experiences. 

The plans perfected and the troops at their stations, the mo- 
ment was at hand to give the signal for beginning. Colonel 
Throop assembled the officers in front of the centre division, 
and with convincing earnestness thus announced the work be- 
fore them : " Gentlemen," said he, " the orders are that at the 
sound of two signal guns from Warren's position on the left, 
we are to move forward and charge the enemy there " — pointing 
to his intrenchments. " Do you see those works ? we either 
sleep to-night on the other side of them " — and then, with a 
significant pause — " or else on the slopes leading to them." 

In adding his own words to the directions for the assault 
there was no semblance of an attempt at ostentation. Colonel 
Throop's fine soldierly abilities were a sufficient earnest that 
what he said was prompted by his conceptions of the stern 
requirements of duty. 

Then came one of those times when the hearts of the bravest 
men stand still. The frowning heights, with lines of breast- 
works on its slope and strong earthworks on its crest ; the 
flooded, icy creek, between our men and the height, which 
must be crossed under fierce fire ; the steep ascent up which 
they would have to toil, while shot and shell and grape and 
canister and bullet were doing their deadly work — the sight of 
these were enough to chill the heart of the most reckless. 



— 37i — 

The penetrating cold settled the general conviction that to be 
wounded was to die. The soldiers set about preserving their 
identity with labels, which they buttoned inside their coats, in- 
dicating their names, their homes, their regiments. Crocker to 
these added the phrase, " Mustered out at Mine Run, Va., Nov. 
30, 1863." Others added " killed in action," noting the location 
and date, some giving directions for the disposition of their 
remains. 

And still the hours wore on, but no sound of the anxiously- 
awaited signal from the distant left had yet been heard. Eight 
o'clock was the hour intimated for the preliminary cannonad- 
ing, to be followed by the general assault at nine. But the 
hour had sped and still there was a universal silence. By-and- 
by it began to be bruited about that Warren, not deeming the 
venture feasible, after a daylight reconnoissance of his front, had 
declined, without he should be directly ordered, to inaugurate 
a movement so doubtful of success and which would certainly 
be attended by great fatality. This indeed was the situation. 
The general assault, as the country subsequently accepted it, 
was wisely and judiciously abandoned. 

Meanwhile General Meade, yet unacquainted with the cause 
and impatient at the delay, ordered the great guns — a battery 
of 20-pounders — about the centre to open. A prompt reply- 
stirred up a pretty active cannonading from the centre to the 
right, which continued until Meade, apprised of Warren's ac- 
tion, ordered the gunnery to cease. The enemy, courteously 
accepting the invitation, soon stopped firing, and the hostili- 
ties for the rest of the day were left to the bickerings of the 
skirmishers. 

Two English officers, guests at army head-quarters, stood in 
rear of the big guns when their fire provoked the enemy's re- 
ply. Behind the ridge a sharp Yankee was preparing a hot 
morning bite for some head-quarter mess. The Englishmen, 
not disposed to take the risk of exposure attending their obser- 
vations, sought cover below the knoll, near where the Yankee 
was cooking-. He had watched the close interest with which 



— 372 — 

the Englishmen had for some time noted the enemy's position, 
and rather astonished at their hurried withdrawal at a time 
when their observation would have produced more practical 
results, unconsciously or purposely remarked : " That's the way 
you Englishmen come to see an American fight, ha ! run 
away when the guns begin to fire." Not overly respectful, 
but as the cook-house was not much of a school for the study 
of diplomatic courtesies, our foreign visitors, accepting the 
source from whence the reflection came, doubtless concluded 
it was not a sufficient cause for the disturbance of existing 
friendly relations. 

James W. Hyatt, a private of H, not disposed to trust his 
knapsack to the custody of others, had taken it with him to the 
new position. It was not discovered in the darkness that he was 
still carrying it. Whilst the men were crouching low to avoid 
the heavy shelling the opening of our batteries had provoked, 
Hyatt rose from his position and, with his knees planted firmly 
on the knapsack, proceeded to tighten the blanket straps. No 
other reason was apparent for this action at this inopportune 
time, save that Hyatt was inclined to deliver himself of a boast- 
ful address of his desire to be valorous, and assumed this par- 
tially upright posture that he might be better heard. As he 
worked at his straps and proceeded with his little speech, a 
solid shot dashed into the ground some distance in front of 
him, passed underneath him and the knapsack and striking the 
root of a tree splintered it and sent up to the surface a piece 
which took the heel off his right shoe. He was raised a foot 
or more ; his glowing address was interrupted as if a lightning 
stroke had paralyzed his organs of speech, and limp and sense- 
less he fell to the ground. Stretcher-bearers straightened him 
out and bore him to the rear. He gradually recovered himself, 
survived the shock — for that was all it really was — to be after- 
wards made prisoner in the Wilderness, and subsequently died 
at Andersonville, Georgia, on the 3d of December, 1864. 

Walters, who had been acting adjutant since Hand's absence, 
was of a venturesome, inquiring turn, and was disposed to in- 



— 373 — 

vestigate the enemy beyond the opportunities afforded within 
timber, invited a captain of the regiment to accompany him 
upon a little personal reconnoissance. Walters, mounted on 
Hand's fretful steed, rode out to a position well down the slope 
towards the run, while the captain stepped out smartly afoot by 
his side. With the aid of field-glasses the enemy were distinctly 
seen moving about the works, and a group of them had evi- 
dently been attracted by the prominent exposure of these ob- 
servers. The evidence was convincing when bullets began to 
throw up the earth in very close proximity. But Walters did 
not move ; still undaunted, he held the glass intently on the 
foe, his companion, not so stolid as he, still remaining at his 
side. Again and again the bullets struck; now under, now 
alongside the horse, now singing and whizzing as they passed 
overhead and beyond ; still Walters steadfastly gazed. The 
captain was becoming annoyed at the persistency with which 
Walters maintained this uselessly exposed position, when a 
voice from the line, calling loudly, " Come in here ; don't you 
know you are making a target of yourselves ? " caused both of 
them to turn suddenly and begin a slow and rather deliberate 
movement back. As they did so the enemy, probably signify- 
ing their appreciation of such reckless temerity, waved their 
hats and gave them a round of cheers. 

When the whole thing was over the captain inquired from 
Walters why he held so firmly to such a dangerous post, after 
it became apparent he was an object of such special attention 
and when there was nothing to be accomplished by the ex- 
posure. Said he, with a significant twinkle : " You, sir, were 
the ranking officer and I awaited your order to retire." 

" If the fates should ever throw us together again under like 
circumstances," replied the captain, " your very profound re- 
spect for rank shall be speedily accommodated. Had I known 
your views earlier, your observations on this occasion would 
have been promptly interrupted." 

Sergeant Stone's position with the knapsacks grew decidedly 
uncomfortable. He naturally sought cover and kept shifting 



— 374 — 

from one position to another in the hope of securing better pro- 
tection. Not so with Dennis, a prisoner whom Stone had in 
charge, under an arrest for some trivial delinquency. Dennis 
stood erect with his hands crossed behind him, his head thrown 
back as far as his neck would reach, his eyes cast aloft towards 
the sky watching complacently the play of the fiery missiles as 
they passed furiously overhead. " Sergeant," said he, address- 
ing him in an assuring, encouraging tone, "don't be alarmed; 
don't be disturbed; stand up and take it; they are perfectly 
harmless ; they wouldn't break a glass." 

But the sergeant declined to act upon the suggestion and 
answered : " I tell you, Dennis, they are dangerous ; they 
should be avoided; such wicked creatures are not to be sneezed 
at." 

Dennis, of course, spread the story abroad, and for weeks 
afterwards, " everywhere the sergeant went, a sneeze was sure 
to go." 

About five o'clock, the darkness settling in the sombre pines, 
the division was retired from the point fixed for its intended 
assault and returned to the position from whence it had started 
to make it. Chilled to the marrow by the piercing cold, and 
the most cruel prohibition against fires, sluggish animation was 
soon returned by the generous warmth distributed in the glow 
of blazing timber. 

The cold did not relax and December opened with every 
promise of a sturdy winter. The 1st passed in idleness, with 
the fixed conviction that under cover of night the troops would 
be relieved from the pressure attending the immediate presence 
of the enemy, and withdrawn to a location convenient and ac- 
cessible to a base of supplies for a season of prolonged rest. 

During the day the artillery was secretly removed from its 
place, and for the real guns batteries of logs were substituted. 

With the earliest darkness the fires were increased in volume 
and piled so high with logs that their flames would skip aloft, 
until well on towards the break of day. The march towards 
the Rapidan was slow and tedious. Jams and halts incident to 



— 375 — 

an overcrowded roadway lengthened the march through most 
of the night, and it was after four o'clock before the column 
crossed the river at Germanna Ford. Lurid flames lit up the 
sky along the entire route. Sparsely settled as the country 
was, many deserted houses with their barns and out-buildings 
fell victims to the incendiary torch. What prompted such a 
spirit of vandalism was inexplicable, unless in the frequent and 
annoying delays the soldiers were determined to warm them- 
selves heedless of the character or cost of the fuel. 

At five o'clock, on the 2d of December, the brigade biv- 
ouacked near Coney Mountain, and at eight o'clock moved on 
again, halting about noon in the vicinity of Stevensburg. On 
the 3d the uegiment moved at eight o'clock, crossing the Rap- 
pahannock at the railway station, which bears the river's name 
at two, and by four in the afternoon it was back to its old 
quarters at Beverly Ford. 

Again another old Virginia winter was at hand to speed away 
in comfortable cantonments, until the blooming, budding spring 
time should bring with it the battle and the daisies. 




LIEUTENANT HENRY T. PECK. 




CHAPTER XV. 

CAMP BARNES — THE WINTER AT BEVERLY FORD. 

ULPEPPER,Fair- 
fax, Farquier, and 
Stafford had be- 
come old abiding; 
places. The belt of 
country between 
the Potomac and 
Rapidan was a fa- 
miliar region. The 
essential element 
of intention alone was wanting to assure to the soldier of the 
Potomac army all the rights of a Virginian citizenship. 

The third of the four winters of the war had opened auspi- 
ciously. The advantages of the situation selected for the per- 
manent encampment had been tested through all the seasons, 
and if the privilege of choosing their own abode had been 
awarded the regiment, they would have looked no farther in 
search of a better place. The upper side of the Rappahan- 
nock, in the vicinity of Beverly Ford, was convenient and ac- 
cessible to the depots of issue and supply, in easy reach of all 
desirable neighbors, just far enough from the front to be beyond 
the annoyances of disturbing reconnoissances, and not so far to 
the rear as to be within the scope of the ubiquitous raider. The 
soldiers were anxious to unload on their susceptible and inex- 
perienced friends their thrilling and embellished stories of field 
and fight, and the approaching days of inactivity gave ample 
promise of a fitting opportunity, when the leaves and fur- 

(376) 



— 377 — 

loughs, in keeping with the season, should be again dispensed 
with abundant liberality. 

To designate encampments by a name specially selected had 
long fallen into disuse. Location, fixed by some geographical 
spot of town, ford, mountain, river, or whatever else in the near 
vicinity was available, had been adopted as a designation suf- 
ficiently significant. 

For once the way of the earlier days was resumed. The old 
brigade commander was not to be forgotten. In recognition 
of the worth of their former chief, the encampment at Beverly 
Ford was officially directed to be known as " Camp Barnes." 

The camp did not differ essentially in its construction from 
that of the previous winter. The logs were more securely mor- 
tised, the chinks more tightly closed, larger fireplaces made a 
cheerier blaze, and more lofty chimneys a better draft. The 
men, with their experience, had come to know how to apply 
and appreciate little desirable appointments of room and table 
furniture. They had not forgotten their homes, but as their 
" quarters " were all the homes they had known intimately for 
some time back, or expected to know for some time to come, 
they had learned to fit them up with many substantial com- 
forts and available conveniences which they had not before 
thought of. 

Nor were the bodily needs exclusively cared for. An edifice 
of quite churchly pretensions was reared and designated as " the 
chapel." Rough boards, without backs, took the place of the 
more commodious pews in the shapely structures at home, and 
the rude logs of the vicinity were hewn and fashioned into a 
durable, if not a handsome, pulpit. The seating capacity 
equalled the strength of the regiment, and with the discourses 
from their own chaplain, and from those with whom he occa- 
sionally exchanged pulpits, the command was at no time in 
want of proper spiritual guidance. The chapel was not devoted 
solely to religious services. It had never been formally dedi- 
cated as a house of worship, nor was it recognized by any 
organized sect, so during the week such available amateur the- 



- 378 - 

atrical and musical talent as was at hand frequently used it for 
secular performances. Prominent among those who afforded 
instruction and entertainment by well-selected recitations was 
Sergeant Thos. J. Hyatt. 

The performers in the dramas, etc., were of course costumed 
in their uniforms. As a consequence, it was impossible to play 
"Romeo and Juliet" or " Claude Melnotte." Imagine Juliet, 
for instance, with a sun-browned face, fierce mustache, and 
close-cropped hair, in a blue dress-coat, baggy blue pantaloons, 
and heavy brogans, wailing out her grief at the death of Romeo ! 
Or Claude Melnotte saying to a fellow dressed in the same 
fashion, except a pair of cavalry boots in the place of the bro- 
gans — 

" We'll read no books that are not tales of love ; 
We'll have no friends that are not lovers." 

This camp was noted for its exceptional cleanliness. No 
wood was allowed to be chopped within its limits, the streets 
were battened down hard every day, the gutters around the 
tents were neatly trimmed out daily, and it was continually the 
subject of close inspection. 

A subterfuge of rather happy conception was a failure. The 
quarters and everything in the vicinity where the enlisted men 
were located were to be in darkness at taps, and the officer of 
the day was especially enjoined to see that all lights were ex- 
tinguished at that hour. By an oversight some one charged 
with this responsibility had used the word candles instead of 
lights. The quickly perceptive soldier promptly " caught on " 
to an opportunity for an evasion. There was a plethora of pork 
fat on hand. This was rendered out in tin cans, such as con- 
tained the canned goods sold by the sutlers, and flannel torn 
into strips inserted for a wick. It made a famous light, and 
for a few nights " pinochle" and " seven up " flourished under its 
rays, but lights out, not candles out, was the requirement, and 
the pork grease and flannel soon yielded to the inevitable. 

The food problem, now so widely the subject of scientific con- 
sideration, has ever been of paramount importance under all 



— 379 — 

civilization, whether Christian, Jewish, polytheistic or philo- 
sophic. Of importance, not for determination by analysis of 
what man should eat and drink to best contribute to the 
strength of his body, the improvement of his mind, and the 
prolongation of his life, but of importance rather in determin- 
ing how the palate shall be best pleased, the stomach best sat- 
isfied, and the mind and body be left free and at ease to the 
huge enjoyment that follows skilfully managed and well-served 
catering. 

The soldier's tastes had kept abreast with his civilization. 
His dietary tables were not as formidable in variety as they 
were mighty in quantity. Tact was, however, a fitting substi- 
tute for variety, and by judicious manipulation he had learned 
many successful combinations of his quantities for the satis- 
faction of appetites more ravenous than delicate. The nomen- 
clature of his cuisine was in harmony with his dishes and the 
harshest phrases of the purest originality were applied to a 
menu more nourishing than appetizing. 

" Lobskous " had already received its fair share of attention. 
Another formula of a kindred sort had now found its way to 
the kitchen. Its name was in no way significant of its ingre- 
dients, and its arbitrary designation as unpalatable to polite 
ears as was the dish itself to refined palates. The recollection 
of its euphonious title will probably follow a description of 
its composition and preparation. 

The canvas bag of the haversack was filled with hard-tack, 
and, with one stone for an anvil and another for a hammer, the 
crackers were reduced to a coarse powder. This usually fell 
to the lot of a volunteer assistant, tempted by the opportunity 
to share such strong and nourishing diet. Meanwhile the 
regular cook had chopped up fresh meat, cut up onions and 
potatoes and stewed them well together. When the stew was 
thoroughly done it was taken from the fire and while yet warm 
the ground grist of hard-tack was poured into it and the whole 
thoroughly mixed. The mixture was then shaped into cakes 
after the manner of tha " codfish ball " and nicely browned on 



- 33o - 

all sides in sizzing pork grease, and the dish was ready to be 
served. The name it bore would have shocked Marion Har- 
land or any other well-accredited cook-book authoress equally 
as violently as would the suggestion to give such a rude for- 
mula a place in her next edition. 

This was treated as quite a dainty morsel and much sought 
after. When the season was at hand that the meal could in- 
clude some of the common field parsley, boiled with the proper 
quantity of old salt horse, the mess fortunate enough to revel in 
such a diet was the envy of its fellows. If the sutler was up 
with supplies of canned goods, fried oysters and clams fre- 
quently garnished the table, and occasionally a dessert of ren- 
net custard concluded the rather luxurious allowances. Such 
fare only found a place on the dietary lists during the days of 
the permanent winter camps. With the march and bivouac 
the old schedule of coffee, hard-tack and salt pork was promptly 
resumed and rigorously continued. 

One mess, composed of five non-commissioned officers, had 
a friend among the brigade butchers — the men who killed and 
dressed the cattle that served for fresh beef for the different 
regiments. Every fresh-beef day one of their number would 
go to the slaughtering ground and bring back a couple of 
heads. These were skinned, cracked in pieces with an axe, 
thrown into a camp kettle and boiled until the meat became 
loose on the bones. The meat and bones were then removed 
and beans thrown into the rich liquor and boiled until they be- 
gan to go to pieces. The five would then sit down to a meal 
so square that it resembled a cube. The camp-kettle held 
about eight gallons. Five sat down to dinner. Frequently 
when they rose from the meal, which included bread and meat 
as well as bean porridge, the camp-kettle was empty. 

A soldier's capacity was something marvellous. It is re- 
lated of one mess of but three that, not satisfied with the issue 
of soft bread — twenty-one loaves in a week — they took advan- 
tage of their officers' privilege to purchase from the commis- 
sariat, and on their orders bought in addition twenty-one loaves 



REVEILLE. 




I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, 
I can't get 'em up, I tell you ; 
I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, 
I can't get 'em up at all. 

The Corporal 's worse than the Private, 
The Sergeant 's worse than the Corporal, 



^P 



The Lieutenant 's worse than the Sergeant, 
But the Captain 's worst of all. 

I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, 
1 can't get 'em up this morning; 
I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, 
I can't get 'em up to-day. 



ASSEMBLY— " FALL IN! 



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^firrrir.T|rrrrrtoiLU^ 



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FATIGUE CALL. 



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SICK CALL — Tune of " Come along, Josie." 



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HlH i^lrfr TJl^Jr I I- 



tas 



Dr. Thomas says, Dr. Thomas says, 

Come and get your Quine— Quine — Quine — Quinine, 

Come and get your Quinine, 

Q — u — i — n — i — n — e ! ! ! 

TAPS. 



f\ u, fj\. fe =& 



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- 38i - 

more, thus increasing their weekly quota to forty-two. Each 
man is said to have devoured a loaf at least at each meal, 
and one, more voracious than his fellows, frequently nearly 
two. When to this was added the other regular daily issues, 
the supplies purchased of the sutler, of sheepskin pies, cakes 
flinty hard, lobsters, clams and oysters, first canned and then 
churned by rough transportation by rail and wagon — if this 
mess be taken, as it fairly may, as typical of the others, it is 
just to assume that with good digestion responsive to such ex- 
orbitant requirements, the American volunteer was building up 
a constitution firm and strong as that of his country. 

The cooks to whose lot fell the preparation of all the food con- 
sumed were not all so closely wedded to their calling as to be 
incapacitated for the dangers and exposures of battle. Their 
assignment as cooks very properly exempted them from all 
details of picket, guard, police and fatigue duty. On one 
occasion during this encampment a demand was made on Com- 
pany D for four men for picket duty. Exclusive of Guilleman, 
the company cook, but three were available. This fact was 
made known to the lieutenant-colonel commanding, accom- 
panied by the request that the number be reduced that the cook 
might be permitted the usual exemption. The duty was im- 
portant; numbers were essential and, for this time at least, 
regulation must yield to necessity. Such was the purport of 
the commandant's response. There was no help : Guilly must 
go. His indignation knew no bounds. He raged and raved 
in broken English about broken faith and violated promises, 
and, as if determined to be revenged by breaking his promise 
to serve as cook, grabbed his gun, exclaiming : " Got's in Him- 
mel, me cook no more ; me carries the gun and fights forever." 
And he did to the very end. No persuasion could induce him 
to resume his abandoned occupation. He adhered faithfully to 
his pledge and fought manfully in the ranks for the rest of his 
enlistment. 

Before the winter was over the services of the Pied Piper of 
Hamlin could have been put into active requisition. Not so 



— 382 — 

much as a thousand guilders awaited him, but he could have 
been handsomely compensated. The chapel and the tents in 
the vicinity of it were overrun with rats. The soldier's in- 
genuity equalled the magic of the piper's pipes. The scheme 
for their extermination originated with Sergeant Nugent, of 
Company K. The homes of the rats were first to be flooded 
and then, as they sought safety in flight, they were to be 
clubbed or stoned to death. Under the supervision of the 
originator some fifteen or twenty volunteered to carry water in 
kettles from the river to the holes, anticipating huge sport in 
this proposed rat-killing harvest. It was a weary job. The 
river was some two hundred yards distant, and gallon after 
gallon was emptied into the holes and all to no purpose. 
Finally, as these water-bearers were losing heart and roughly 
berating their comrade for his failure to realize on his well-con- 
ceived project of destruction, a single rat presented himself and 
quickly fell before the unerring club of the man who stood 
nearest. The spirits of the exterminators revived. " More 
water, more water," was the cry. More rats, more rats, was 
the response. They came thick and fast ; some were escaping ; 
they were increasing beyond the control of those who were 
managing the enterprise. Reinforcements were called for, and 
before the affray was over the services of the entire regiment, 
officers and all, were in requisition. The large quantity of 
water used and the number tramping about the vicinity made 
considerable mud. Regardless of the condition of the ground, 
as the rats plunged through it the blows were laid on hard, and 
every one engaged was thoroughly splashed. Mud instead of 
blood was the evidence of conflict. The affair was completely 
successful. The annoying pests, wholly exterminated, never 
reappeared, and those who had nearly lost faith in the originator 
of the plan accorded him his just deserts, and all who had suf- 
fered by the annoyance were duly grateful to their deliverers. 

Volunteer officers, as a rule, were not apt in the sword exer- 
cise. Ambitious to excel in this soldierly acquirement, the 
officers of one of the regiments imported from Massachusetts an 



— 383 — 

instructor, who came not only with high endorsements as a 
master of his calling, but with much repute for his ability to 
meet and successfully resist all comers. His career was a short 
one. Whatever may have been his abilities as a teacher, he 
soon proved his utter incapacity as a practical combatant. 

A little Frenchman, Albert De Ville, of K, exceptionally ex- 
pert with sword and foil, had heard much talk of the proposed 
Yankee importation, and, prompted probably as much by a 
spirit of revenge at the failure to recognize his capacity as a de- 
sire to meet a foeman whom he supposed worthy of his blade, 
determined to seek an early opportunity for a pass with the 
gentleman from Massachusetts. He was not long in waiting. 
The instructor was informed that a soldier in the ranks claimed 
to be his equal as a swordsman, and for his own sake he must 
quickly secure the supremacy. 

A Sibley tent was selected and an audience, necessarily 
limited, witnessed the exhibition. For fifteen minutes the 
blades flew about with some adroit and skilful manoeuvring, 
when suddenly the instructor's sword lay at his feet. He very 
unjustly claimed a foul, raving about it with much passion. 
Such a demonstration of anger was just what the Frenchman 
wanted, and, concluding to settle him forever, he promptly con- 
ceded the claim, and at it they went again, the Frenchman with 
much deliberation, the instructor badly broken up. The con- 
test was of short duration, and soon up went the instructor's 
sword high into the air. This time, disarmed effectually be- 
yond the hope of cavil, he yielded, and shortly afterwards dis- 
appeared entirely, a sadly discomfited and, as he thought, much- 
abused man. 

De Ville was a man of no physical strength. His arm, by 
those who had seen it, was described as no thicker than an axe- 
handle. He was very ready to explain his art, which he had 
most thoroughly acquired in his native country, but others 
seemed to be in no way at all able to reach him. One of his 
favorite modes of expression was that a sword should be 
handled just as you would a writing-pen. He claimed that in 



— 3§4 — 

the sword strength must subordinate itself to skill, and illus- 
trated it by a story of his having in a very close combat once 
disarmed a general officer, a West Point graduate, a man six 
feet in height and of magnificent frame. He was equally pro- 
ficient in the bayonet exercise, was ready and did often meet 
with the sword an antagonist of no mean skill, armed with 
musket and bayonet, and the antagonist always gave it up. 
De Ville remained through the war and contributed materially 
to the instruction of the officers and men in the art he knew 
so well. 

On one occasion, on a bleak, cold night, intensely dark, 
William T. Godwin, of Company F, on his way with the relief 
to a picket outpost, slipped from a log that spanned a narrow 
creek in the route to his destination and fell headlong into the 
stream. He was the last man in the detail and his splash 
bringing the advance to a halt, they returned and by the light 
of a torch fished him out. His musket, which was loaded, 
filled with water that immediately froze hard, and, as he would 
be useless at the front, he was sent back to the reserve. This 
happened on a Friday night. Saturday the pickets were re- 
lieved and through the day, the weather continuing freezing 
cold, he worked manfully with his piece, but to no avail ; there 
was the load and there was the ice nearly to the muzzle. The 
next day, Sunday, an inspection was announced by Colonel 
Herring. In the vain hope to divert attention from the inside 
of his gun, Godwin devoted special attention to the outside, 
until the barrel shone with unusual brightness. In the morn- 
ing the temperature rose materially and the sun developed an 
exceptional winter warmth. The sad effects of a thaw inside 
his piece had not dawned upon Godwin. The colonel was es- 
pecially complimentary. The rammers had not been sprung, 
when, unfortunately, the colonel raised the hammer. A 
long, black stream spouting from the nipple disfigured his 
clothing and entirely changed the color of his clean white 
gloves. The particular cleanliness outside doubtless aroused a 
suspicion of design. The colonel was demonstratively angry, 



- 335 - 

would listen to no explanation at the time and gave instructions 
for a positive punishment. Subsequently the misfortune of 
the previous Friday night and the intervening cold and sudden 
warm weather satisfactorily accounted for the condition of 
Godwin's piece, and the affair was not permitted to disturb his 
otherwise excellent record. 

The Fance mansion was located just outside the picket line. 
The family, a mother and two promising daughters of educa- 
tion and refinement, claimed the usual rating common to Vir- 
ginians of the higher class. Safeguards from the regiment re- 
lieved each other at the house at regular intervals, and those 
disposed to cultivate an acquaintance were permitted as reason- 
able an intimacy as the strained relations of armed antagonism 
would sanction. Occasionally when the soldiers' entertaining 
powers were irresistible, notably as in the case with Smith, of 
K, the ladies responded with music, song* and gossip, and all 



* These are lines, set to appropriate music, often repeated by the Fance ladies 
to entertain their soldier guests : 

THE HOMESPUN DRESS. 

Oh, yes ! I am a Southern girl, 

And glory in the name, 
And boast it with far greater pride 

Than glittering wealth or fame. 

Chorus: 
Hurrah ! Hurrah ! for the Sunny South so dear; 
Three cheers for the homespun dress the Southern ladies wear ! 

I envy not the Northern girl 

Her robes of beauty rare, 
Though diamonds grace her snowy neck, 

And pearls bedeck her hair. 

The homespun dress is plain, I know, 

My hat's palmetto, too ; 
But then it shows what Southern girls 

For Southern rights will do. 

We've sent the bravest from our land 
To battle with the foe, 

25 



— 336 

felt that a cruel service should so relax rigid rules that the best 
society men might be alone assigned to duty when the charge 

And we would lend a helping hand — 
We love the South, you know. 

Now Northern goods are out of date, 

And since Old Abe's blockade, 
We Southern girls can live content 

With goods that's Southern-made. 

We'd scorn to wear a bit of silk, 

A bit of Northern lace, 
But make our homespun dresses up 

And wear them with much grace. 

This Southern land's a glorious land, 

And hers a glorious cause ; 
So here's three cheers to Southern Rights 

And for the Southern Boys. 

We've sent our sweethearts to the war, 

But, dear girls, never mind; 
The soldier lad will not forget 

The girl he left behind. 

A soldier is the lad for me, 

A brave heart I adore, 
And when this sunny South is free, 

And fighting is no more, 

I'll choose me then a lover brave 

From out that gallant band ; 
The soldier lad that I love most 

Shall have my heart and hand. 

And now, young man, a word to you — 

If you would win the fair, 
Go to the field where honor calls 

And win your lady there. 

Remember that our brightest smiles 

Are for the true and brave, 
And that our tears fall for the one 

That fills a soldier's grave. 

Chorus : 
Hurrah! Hurrah! for the Sunny South so dear; 
Three cheers for the homespun dress the Southern ladies wear ! 



- 387 - 

they had to keep were the stately matrons and comely maidens 
of Virginia's aristocracy. 

Smith had very justly already earned an excellent reputation 
for courage and determination among those with whom he had 
been closely associated, but to others his extremely youthful 
appearance sometimes suggested a doubt whether he was fitted 
for a sudden emergency. On one occasion, at this encamp- 
ment, a detachment of the 4th Virginia Cavalry had made a 
daring dash through the pickets, shaken up Sweitzer's head- 
quarters pretty well, and returned wiih a number of captured 
horses. Shortly afterwards, when it fell to the lot of the 1 1 8th's 
detail to be assigned to the spot where the lines had been suc- 
cessfully penetrated, the officer in charge, advised of the inci- 
dent, was instructed to more than usual caution, and particu- 
larly to look well after Post 7. 

This post could be approached under cover to within but a 
short distance, and no man was to be assigned there except one 
who could receive and return an unexpected shot. Sergeant 
Daly, of E, inspecting the line with a view to determine whether 
this post had fallen to the lot of one calculated to hold it, came 
across a smooth-faced, seventeen-year-old boy. He knew him 
only by sight as a member of the regiment — nothing of his 
name or reputation. Engaging him in general conversation, 
he finally disclosed the purpose of his investigation, and con- 
cluded by inquiring of the youth, who was no other than Smith, 
of K, whether he thought he could sustain himself in case the 
circumstances likely to occur should happen. " Tell the lieu- 
tenant," said Smith, " that I can stay here as long as any one, 
and hope he won't relieve me just because I happen to be a 
boy." The reply was sufficiently assuring and Smith was not 
disturbed. 

It was not an every-day opportunity the enlisted man had to 
secure his share of spirits. On a cold, bleak, stormy morning 
a knot of officers conceived the notion the day would pass 
more cheerily with a reasonable supply of the ardent. They 
selected a trusty soldier and, supplying him with nine canteens 



- 3 88 - 

and nine orders on which, only, whisky was allowed to be sold,, 
despatched him in all haste to the commissary. 

The soldier, thoughtful as well as trusty, concealed his own 
empty canteen underneath his great coat. Arriving at the 
depot, he found it in charge of an old acquaintance to whom 
he delivered the nine orders and the nine canteens. Two 
barrels, with the heads out but full, stood close to each other. 
From one Billy, the acquaintance, proceeded to fill the canteens. 
Leaning by the other was the soldier. As Billy filled, the sol- 




THE "TRUSTY" SOLDIER FILLING HIS OWN CANTEF.N. 

dier dropped his own canteen into the other barrel, withdrawing 
it when the sound indicated the liquor had reached the mouth, 
meanwhile engaging Billy in loud and amusing conversation to 
drown the gurgling sound. Billy meanwhile was so intent on 
his own duties and interested in the task, that what had been 
done wholly escaped his observation. Settling his score, the 
soldier earnestly appealed to Billy for a drink, but Billy con- 
sistently resisted his appeals, predicting that with such a load 
and such temptation he would be drunk enough before night 



— 389 — 

anyhow, and that his friends would do him service by not ex- 
pediting him to the unseemly condition he was bound to reach. 

Billy's predictions were fulfilled. Nine drinks, one out of 
each canteen, on his way back set the man up pretty well before 
he reached camp. The officers, at first disposed to parsimony, 
were not inclined to reward him for his work ; but the mellowing 
influence of the rum lubricated their generosity, and they plied 
their willing messenger so repeatedly with the beverage that 
long before " retreat " he had landed in the guard-house. The 
night's confinement sobered him, and then he had the better of 
the officers. He had not so far forgotten himself as not to 
successfully conceal his own canteen, and immediately upon 
his release he and his companions had another bout of it, the 
•officers meanwhile languishing morosely with canteens empty 
and stimulants gone. 

Larry Mullen, of Company A, was a new recruit, a great raw- 
boned Irishman, afterwards a good soldier, but at first green as 
his native isle. Picket duty soon fell to Larry's lot. Captain 
Walters was the officer in command of the line, and Larry 
stood upon the outpost in all his primitive, ungainly awkward- 
ness. Captain Walters, accompanied by Larry's lieutenant, 
visiting the outposts about dark, approaching Larry's post, 
slackened his pace, waiting for Larry to satisfy himself, ac- 
cording to instructions, that they were entitled to be where 
they were. 

But Larry had no such intention. Throwing his piece to 
his left shoulder, he advanced with his right hand extended 
towards his own officer, in friendly recognition of his presence. 
Upbraided by Walters and reminded of his instructions, and 
asked why he had not followed them, he replied innocently, in 
his broadest tongue, " I would, sure, only I know'd the other 
fellow." Walters's gravity yielded for the moment, and both 
officers gave way to the merriment the situation naturally pro- 
duced. 

There had been considerable firing on the picket line for 
sport. Game and domestic animals shot there had often sub- 



— 39° — 

stantially improved the diet. Stringent orders had been issued 
prohibiting it. Two fat opossums on one occasion ventured 
within range of Godwin's musket. Though aware of the con- 
sequences, he fired and brought them both to earth. The fear 
of detection so disturbed him that he sought to dispose of his 
game where he thought it would most likely palliate his offence. 
One he sent to the commandant, Colonel Gwyn, and the other 
to Quartermaster Gardner. He was right in his conjecture, for 
he shortly found himself a guest at the quartermaster's table, 
where the leading dish was the "other opossum," cleverly baked 
and well stuffed with potato filling. 

A detail at work widening the railway cut at Rappahannock 
Station met with ocular proofs that frogs are hibernating ani- 
mals. They were " drifting " through soft porous rock that 
yielded readily to the blows of the pick, when they struck upon 
what was apparently the winter-quarters of all the frogs in the 
neighborhood. The gathering was as large, populous, and 
closely settled as a prairie-dog village. Their state of torpidity 
soon yielded to the genial rays of the bright sunlight, and they 
all hopped off with the evident conviction that the springtime 
had really come to stay. 

This encampment, so prolific of anecdote, was rapidly ap- 
proaching its end. In its solid details it did not differ essen- 
tially from others that have been treated of elaborately. 

Some important changes occurred towards its conclusion. 
Captain Crocker, who has frequently appeared throughout 
these pages with such merited prominence, found it necessary 
to withdraw from the army. On the 27th of January, 1864, his 
resignation was accepted, and the regiment and the service lost 
an officer worthy of honorable mention among the gallant men 
whose names enrich the country's history with heroic deeds 
and patriotic sacrifice. Returning to civil life, Captain Crocker 
engaged entensively in business pursuits, and a few years since, 
in the prime of successful and enterprising manhood, died, after 
a short illness, at his home in Buffalo. 

^Captain Donegan about this time also resigned. After the 



— 39i — 

war his fellow-citizens, recognizing his services to his country, 
selected him for an honorable and lucrative office. He died 
shortly after the expiration of its term, well advanced in years. 

Signs were indicative of active operations if the season was 
not. Boisterous March had not yet disappeared when the 
orders were issued that consolidated the Army of the Potomac 
into three efficient corps, with which, and the subsequent 
addition of the 9th Corps, it fought the struggle out to the 
end. The 1st and 3d lost their identity; the 2d, 5th and 6th 
retained theirs. 

Sykes was sent to other fields of honorable service, and the 
scholarly, intrepid Warrerf took his place. The old 1st Brigade 
was broken up and the 18th Mas- 
sachusetts, 20th Maine, 44th New 
York, 83d Pennsylvania, 11 8th 
Pennsylvania, 1st Michigan and 
1 6th Michigan were organized as 
the 3d Brigade of the 1st Division, 
5th Corps. The 3d Brigade re- 
tained its well-known bugle call. 
General Dan Butterfield, its 
earliest commander, shaped its 
notes to lingeringly pronounce his 
name, and " Dan ! Dan ! Butter- 
field ! Butterfield ! " at times rang out in chorus when the men 
were in the humor down to the very end. 

The brigade was formed specially to secure in numbers and 
efficiency an organization suited to the high military attain- 
ments so prominently developed in all the many battles of 
General Joseph J. Bartlett. It was his right in the reorganiza- 
tion to be assigned to a division. Not strictly speaking his 
right, for of right that command belonged only to a major- 
general. But some of the major-generals about that time, for 
sufficiently cogent reasons, had been relegated to duties as near 
akin to quiet, peaceful pursuits as could be suggested, when 
grim-visaged war needed the services of all the valiant sons of 




— 392 — 

Mars. They had been tried but were not to be trusted. Politi- 
cal considerations forbade their actual retirement, and so the 
command of divisions fell to brigadiers whose work had proved 
them worthy of their trust. Of these it was conceded Bartlett 
was one. He had indeed had a division, but there were not 
enough for all, and he was forced to bide his time for a better 
opportunity. General Griffin was continued as the division 
commander. 

This reference to these retired general officers recalls an in- 
cident of some historic moment which may not inappropriately 
be mentioned here. 

While the army lay around Petensburg an eminent corps 
commander visited the President to urge upon him the justice 
of promoting, to the rank to which their commands entitled 
them, the gallant division commanders who had so valiantly 
fought their divisions through the severe campaign of the 
Wilderness, Spottsylvania and Cold Harbor. The President, 
struck with the force of the appeal and conceding the justice 
of the demand, feared only that the list of major-generals was 
already full to its legal maximum, and that right and justice 
must tarry until vacancies should make places for deserving 
men. The adjutant-general was summoned and reported. The 
President was right in his conjecture ; the list was in fact full, 
and, under the law, there was no room for other appointments. 
" But," considerately added General Townsend, "some of these 
are at their homes awaiting orders, or on some light or tri- 
fling duty that can easily be discharged by officers of much less 
rank ; their services might readily be dispensed with and places 
made for other men." 

Mr. Lincoln saw the force of the adjutant-general's sugges- 
tion, but as war demands a strength and support at home as 
well as in the field, and as all these gentlemen had a warm fol- 
lowing among some very influential men, he did not just see 
his way clear to summarily dispose of them by a wholesale 
muster out. " But," said the President, always ready for an 
emergency, " I tell you what we can do: as the rank for these 



— 393 



brigadiers does not fit their commands, we can send them all 
home and put the major-generals, who have rank without com- 
mand, in their places." 

This startled the corps commander. He knew well the utter 
unfitness of most, if not all, of them ; and, besides, that nobody 
at the front wanted them ; and believing the President sincere, 
earnestly urged him, if he desired to preserve the integrity of 
his armies, to make no such fatal blunder. But the way in 
which he managed this 
part of his case — which 
really needed no such 
urgency, for the Presi- 
dent had no serious pur- 
pose of carrying out his 
suggestion — and the way 
he continued to press the 
righteous claims of those 
for whom he pled, ulti- 
mately convinced the 
President that justice 
must be done, and 
enough of the major- 
generals not with the 
army at the front should 
be mustered out to make 
room for those deserving 
promotions. • 

Elated with his success, the corps commander hurried to 
General Halleck and rapidly repeated the result of his inter- 
view. General Halleck was not slow to act. Within an hour 
he was with the President with a list of generals whose services 
could be summarily dispensed with. The hour's delay was 
fatal ; the success of the corps commander with the President 
had promptly spread abroad. Political influence dominated 
the situation. The strong men these distinguished heroes 
kept at the capital to watch their shadowy hold on military life 




CHARLES F. DARE. 



— 394 — 

were quickly with the President. All the good the corps com- 
mander had done was speedily dissipated ; the major-generals 
held on, and the hope of promotion that had dawned on the 
brigadiers disappeared for a long time to come. 

The signs of a movement increased ; the season when it would 
become practicable drew nearer. April was well on the wane. 
The surest of all indications that battles must be looked for was 
at hand. The field-hospitals were abandoned and the sick 
ordered to the rear. Afterwards but a single day elapsed, and 
then from the smoke and flame that arose, as the torch de- 
stroyed all that remained of its old abandoned dwelling-place, 
the regiment plunged into the fierce fires that followed the gory 
track of battles from the Rapidan to the James. 




CHAPTER XVI. 




THE WILDERNESS — LAUREL HILL SPOTTSYLVANIA. 

LARK'S MOUN- 
TAIN, the bold pro- 
montory on the south 
side of the Rapidan, 
the silent sentinel that 
had kept its ever- 
wakeful watch on the 
old Potomac Army 
through all the months 
that it lay at rest in 
its quiet winter home, 
had not been over 
vigilant on the morning of the ist of May. The 5th Corps 
had two rivers instead of one between it and the enemy, and to 
be up with the rest of the army it moved two days earlier that 
all might make that memorable midnight start on the 3d. 
Yet the more than usual smoke that filled the air from the 
abandoned 5th Corps camps failed to arouse the vigilance of 
the Confederate signal officer on the mountain top, and Lee 
knew nought of the majestic sweep prepared for him until 
daylight of the 4th revealed the heads of all the columns at 
the very Rapidan itself. Whether it was Lee's purpose to em- 
barrass the crossing or not, if he had been advised in time, is 
not known, but certain it is that scarce had his adversary's foot 
been planted on the other side of the river than he was 
promptly in motion against him. 

The order to move on the 30th of April was followed by its 
execution the next day with a march as far as Brandy Station, 

(395) 



— 39 6 — 

where, remaining in bivouac until noon of the 3d of May, it 
was continued to the vicinity of Culpepper. From there, 
shortly before midnight, began the actual offensive movement, 
which in march, siege, skirmish, or battle, continued inces- 
santly until Appomattox terminated it within three weeks of a 
year from the day of its commencement. 

It was the generous blooming spring-time, but there was no 
indication of its presence. The weather was hot, somewhat in 
advance of the season. But no flowering vine climbed the 




MAJOR-GENERAL G. K. WARREN. 

lattice, no flowers bloomed, no fruits blossomed. The trees 
of the forest and of the orchard had fallen before the axe of 
the soldier, and vines and flowers had been obliterated by 
the gory, grimy track of war. The landscape for several years 
had failed to welcome the approach of spring. 

The brigade crossed the Rapidan. at Gcrmanna Ford by a 
pontoon bridge, and halting some three hours for breakfast, 
continued the march until about 3 p. m., when Griffin's division 



— 397 — 



■M 



formed line of battle along the pike at a point about a mile be- 
yond where the Germanna plank road crossed the Orange and 
Fredericksburg turnpike and a little farther from the old Wilder- 
ness Tavern. The ist Michigan, from Bartlett's brigade, were 
thrown out as the brigade skirmishers, and in this formation 
the troops bivouacked for the night. 

It was a wild, weird region. Everywhere was dense and 
trackless forest. The piercing cry of the whip-poor-will rang 
through the sombre pines and the screech of the owl echoed 
from the tree-tops. A 



wary foe was concen- 
trating for a mighty 
stroke, and the weary 
soldiers rested, for the 
last time for many 
months, without the 
sound of musketry to 
break their repose. 
The Wilderness, for 
such the region was 
justly named, sud- 
denly peopled by 
two great warring 
hosts, was about to 
make a battle-his- 
tory unparalleled 
for slaughter, to be 
read with interest. 




PONTOON BRIDGE ACROSS THE RAPPAHAN- 
NOCK RIVER. 



deep, intense and abiding so long as 
the English language shall be spoken. 

No other idea of the country can be given save that it was a 
forest apparently without limit, with clearings so few and their 
space so contracted as scarcely to be considered as breaking the 
solemn monotony of tree, chaparral and undergrowth. Here and 
there a swale and ridge broke the level, but the rise and dip 
were so inappreciable that they would scarcely have been 
noticed save when men were seeking cover from the bitter pun- 



— 398 - 

ishment of battle. East and west two main highways, the 
Orange and Fredericksburg plank and turnpike roads, running 
parallel with each other, and crossing near Chancellorsville, 
pass through the entire wilderness. The Brock Road begins 
on the pike and runs southeast to Spottsylvania Court-House. 
The Germanna plank road, after crossing the turnpike, ter- 
minates on the plank road some three miles northeast of Par- 
ker's Store. Other plantation roads connected the few settled 
patches. 

On the morning of the 5th Crawford's division led the 5th 




MAJOR-GENERAL CHARLES GRIFFIN. 

Corps, moving off in the direction of Chewning's and the 
Widow Tapp's, towards Parker's Store, on the Orange and 
Fredericksburg plank road. Chewning's is about two miles 
southwest of the Lacy House, where Grant and Meade 
remained during most of the action. Except the occasional 
cleared fields of these three and a few other farms, the forest 
was unbroken. Wadsworth and Robinson followed Craw- 



— 399 — 

ford in the order named, and Griffin remained across the 
turnpike, throwing up breastworks about eight o'clock in the 
morning. 

To Griffin's division belongs the distinction of having opened 
the battle of the Wilderness, which will be ever memorable, 
not only for its magnitude, the fierceness with which it was 
contested and the appalling loss of life on both sides, but as 
being the commencement of the greatest campaign of the war. 
About noon Griffin advanced with great difficulty through the 
woods, with Ayres's brigade on the right of the pike and 
Sweitzer's and Bartlett's on the left. The second line of Bart- 
lett's brigade was composed of the 20th Maine and the 1 1 8th 
Pennsylvania, the latter led by Lieutenant-Colonel Herring. 
Colonel Gwyn commanded the line. The movement was very 
vigorous and spirited. It broke up Jones's Confederate brigade 
completely, killing its commanding officer, driving it through 
the supporting line, disordering Batte's brigade and pressing 
hard the brigade of Doles. 

In spite of the obstructions and in the absence of that en- 
couragement which is afforded by the sight, on the eve of an 
engagement, of strong lines of battle to the right and to the 
left, the advance was made with zeal and resolution. The 
snapping of boughs and branches, the tramp over the cracking, 
tangled underbrush, piercingly distinct in the otherwise noise- 
less forest, alone indicated that a considerable force was in mo- 
tion, until a wild, wicked roar of musketry, reverberating 
through the forests with a deep and hollow sound, opened the 
appalling carnage of the Wilderness. The enemy broke under 
the withering fire. The lines had broadened their spaces, and 
the 20th Maine and 118th Pennsylvania rushed to the front 
line. The pursuit continued through the dense woods until a 
small clearing was reached. The enemy retreated across this 
clearing, and, upon reaching the other side, made a stand, and 
in an instant the timber blazed with the fire of musketry. Our 
men paused for an instant, but only for an instant, when, with 
ringing cheers, they charged across the clearing, driving the 



— 4°° — 

enemy from their position. This and the advance through the 
woods was not accomplished without serious loss. Many a 
brave fellow bit the dust as the charge was made across the 
open ground. The pursuit was continued but a short distance, 
when it became known that the troops on the right and left had 
not maintained connection and that both flanks of the advanced 
line were exposed. In a few minutes it was discovered that the 
enemy were intent upon flanking. Firing upon the flanks 
soon compelled the line to fall back. At first this was ac- 
complished in good order. The command was given to 
" about face," and for some distance a good line was preserved. 
But the impression soon gained ground that they were hope- 
lessly flanked and liable to be surrounded and captured, and 
then the line broke up into little knots which, falling back some 
distance, would turn and face the enemy, and then again fall 
back. In this way the position from which they had started, 
where the breastworks had been built, was at length reached. 

The difficulty in forcing its way through the scrubby pine 
and tangled undergrowth had so hindered Wright's division of 
the 6th Corps, advancing to cover Ayres's flank, that this 
brigade was forced back, which eventually exposed the flanks of 
the others on the left of the pike, and they in succession fol- 
lowed. 

There was but little opportunity for supports to promptly 
find their way to where they were most needed. " Where shall 
I go ? " shouted a gallant brigade commander, anxious to throw 
himself where the pressure was the strongest. " Push, sir," 
replies his chief, " as rapidly as you can to where you hear the 
sounds of the heaviest fighting." The instructions were just as 
definite as if he had been told to take a given direction, for the 
sounds of the heaviest fighting were everywhere, and a given 
direction in this impenetrable maize was nowhere. 

General Bartlett was as conspicuous in this engagement as 
he always was in every battle. From what they had seen of 
him, from the reputation he had acquired elsewhere, his soldiers 
looked for nothing else. He was always distinctively dressed. 



— 4 OT — 

In the thickest of a fight his men could not mistake him, and 
the enemy could not complain that they had not in him a 
shining mark whenever there was opportunity to make a se- 
lection. During this engagement he made a very narrow 
■escape. He had ridden in to the thickest and suddenly found 
himself in close proximity to a considerable body of the enemy, 
who made him a target for their rifles. His horse was killed, 
part of his clothing was shot away, but he fortunately escaped 
with a few bruises. 

A section of a battery on the turnpike — there was little place 
for artillery, except on the roadways — did excellent execution 
in covering the withdrawal, while the infantry in their retreat 
would stop to serve as a support. As " K," of the 1 18th, was in 
its vicinity, doing its best to fight off the enemy as they were 
pressing the retiring troops, the batterymen showed, and very 
properly too, a decided disposition to leave. Every indication 
pointed to a sacrifice of their pieces if they held on much 
longer. But as Fryer, a very gallant soldier of that company, 
quaintly expressed it, he, Nugent, Stotsenberg and a few 
•other associates who were with him, organized themselves into 
a self-constituted committee to wait upon the men of the 
battery and urge them to stay a while ; that they and hosts of 
friends they had in the neighborhood would soon gather about 
them. Whether the committee's persuasion had the effect or 
not was never known. But these men of " K " and other com- 
panies of the regiment, with soldiers of other commands of the 
brigade, rallied about the battery, which opened on the ap- 
proaching Confederates with grape and canister and checked 
their advance, and the rest of the movement was conducted in 
more creditable order. 

There were a goodly number of prisoners taken during the 
forward movement. They were disarmed, their accoutrements 
taken from them, and directed to find their way to the rear, as 
there was no time then to give them other attention. 

Colonel Gwyn was severely wounded; all the other regi- 
mental commanders in the brigade were either killed or 
26 



— 4° 2 — 

wounded. The loss of the 1 18th — two enlisted men killed, one 
commissioned officer and twenty-six enlisted men wounded, and 
twenty-seven enlisted men missing, was not so heavy as in the 
other regiments. The command of the regiment had now de- 
volved on Lieutenant-Colonel Charles P. Herring, and so con- 
tinued almost uninterruptedly until the loss of a leg at Dab- 
ney's Mill, in February, 1865, deprived the regiment of his ser- 
vices. 

Crawford's division, now somewhat isolated, was drawn in 
and posted about a mile southwest of the Lacy House, facing 
towards Chewning's, with Wadsworth on his right, and Robinson 




RESCUING THE WOUNDED. 

on the right of Wadsworth filled the space between Crawford and 
Griffin. The right of the 5th Corps, Griffin's division, rested 
on the turnpike, about three hundred yards from the enemy. 
The assault that promised such an advantage was over. By 
two o'clock the troops were all back in the breastworks. No 
other demonstration was made by the division until towards 
nightfall, when an advance disclosing the enemy in strength in 
the same position where he repelled the assault of the morning, 
the soldiers in the intrenchments rested for the night.* 

* The following particulars respecting private Cunningham Johnston, of Com- 
pany E, who was taken prisoner at the first day's fight in the Wilderness, are fur- 
nished by his son, Mr. C. B Johnston : 

Private Johnston had been in every battle in which the regiment was engaged, 



— 403 — 

It was a woeful night, and yet the soldiers in the trenches 
did not seem to have such conception of its horrors as they 
had upon reflection in after years, or as will those who read 
this story. War does blunt the sensibilities, but the wounded 
or disabled are never sacrificed if it be within the pale of human 
possibilities to succor or sustain them. Men hardened to ex- 
posure and daily facing death cannot suppress the thought, 
as one another about them fall, " What of it ? the next turn 
may be mine." Manifestations of grief rarely follow the fatal 
casualties of war. It is better that it should be so. The busi- 
ness of war is to kill and maim, and the quicker this is ac- 
cepted as a hard and bitter necessity the better are the soldiers. 
But the moans and wailings of the Wilderness battle-field 
stirred the stoutest hearts, and yet they could not be relieved. 
Wounded men make but little demonstration and rarely 
utter an outcry. Throughout the night, as the forest fires, 
which had blazed since the early afternoon, drew nearer and 
nearer to the poor unfortunates who lay between the lines, 
their shrieks, cries and groans, loud, piercing, penetrating, rent 
the air, until death relieved the sufferer, or the rattle of mus- 
ketry, that followed the advent of the breaking morn, drowned 
all the other sounds in its dominating roar. There was no 
hope of rescue — war's hard rules would not permit it; and 
there, between the lines, the men of both sides perished in the 
flames, because there was no helping hand to succor, no yield- 
ing of the stern necessities of war. 

until he was taken prisoner. He was an inmate of various Confederate prisons, 
being confined nine months at Andersonville. At the close of the war he was 
released and was sent immediately to Annapolis Hospital. After being there two 
weeks he was allowed to visit his family, but owing to the condition of his health, 
the result of his long confinement in prison, he was obliged to return to the hos- 
pital for treatment Desiring to take part in the grand review at Washington, he 
again requested to be allowed to leave the hospital. This was granted on condi- 
tion that he should ride in an ambulance. He took passage on the steamer 
Massachusetts, and the same night lost his life in the collision between that vessel 
and the steamer Black Diamond. His fate was a peculiarly sad one. He was a 
patriotic man, and patiently accepted the dangers and hardships of army life as a 
duty to his country. 



— 404 — 

At 3.30 a. m. the division moved some distance beyond its 
intrenchments and again lay until nightfall under artillery fire. 
The skirmishers continued actively engaged and the zip-zip-zip 
of the minie kept up a fitting tenor to the deeper toned notes 
of solid shot and shell. 

The real wicked roar of battle rolled up in tremendous pro- 
portions from the left. There it was a solid death-grip. Han- 
cock throttled Longstreet and drove him with relentless fury 
through more than a mile of swamp and forest. And then the 
undergrowth and timber that had so impeded Hancock con- 
cealed the movements of Longstreet, until it was his turn to 
throttle Hancock, and all the ground so valiantly won in the 
morning was lost again by noon. The swirl involved the 5th 
Corps' left, and Wadsworth, patriotic, self-sacrificing, of " dis- 
tinguished intrepidity," fell mortally wounded in front of his 
division. 

But the day's work was not yet finished. As the struggle 
subsided in one direction, its furies rose again with vigor in 
another. Just as the shades of night were closing everything 
in deeper darkness, Ewell struck the 6th Corps' right and 
mashed it, and then, when Sedgwick with his " I have re-estab- 
lished my lines " had added another of those laconic phrases 
to the rich vocabulary of war, daylight had disappeared en- 
tirely and all fighting for the time was over. 

On the 7th there was apparently more activity in the vicinity 
of Griffin's division than elsewhere, though the day was no 
such one as its predecessor. About six o'clock in the morning 
the enemy made a real or pretended attack, which was hand- 
somely repulsed. He came within range of the rifles and 
vigorous volleys drove him back. That he broke the picket 
line and struck the works seemed to indicate he had more in 
view than simply to satisfy his curiosity. Later the sharp- 
shooters had been so annoying that General Griffin ordered an 
advance to drive them from their cover. The signal was to be 
the waving from the works of the brigade color by General Bart- 
lett. The brigade, leaping over the breastworks, advanced 



— 4 05 — 

with a cheer, and the woods were soon rid of the pests who had 
infested it. It is said some of them were brought down from 
their perch with a thud, and others, squirrel-like, leaped from 
limb to limb in their effort to escape. This entire battle of the 
Wilderness had been fought almost exclusively by musketry. 
In this little combat the artillery firing was so heavy as to con- 
trast strangely with its previous absence. 

These affairs of the morning were followed later by a demon- 
stration on our part. There was no mistaking what its pur- 
pose was. The instructions were to feel and drive the enemy. 
The latter part of the direction was inserted more in hopeful- 
ness than as a command. It was easy to feel, but the driving 
was not so readily accomplished. The line was composed of 
the 20th Maine, 1 1 8th Pennsylvania and 12th and 14th Reg- 
ulars, Colonel Herring commanding the whole. The regulars 
had the left, and by some mischance they missed the connec- 
tion. While Colonel Herring was moving alone by a cow- 
path, to look after his connection on the left, he came suddenly 
upon a tall, strong specimen of the Confederacy, making rapid 
strides to rejoin his column, from which he had in some way 
become detached. Herring had only his sword ; he was with- 
out a pistol. The soldier, somewhat surprised at this unex- 
pected meeting, still with his wits about him, raised his rifle 
and, with an " I have got you this time," fired. Herring 
jumped for a tree and the ball, fired only a few feet off, went 
crashing into it. The Confederate did not deem it wise to stop 
to reload, but moved on, chuckling as if satisfied that he did 
not fear to take chances, even though he failed. The other 
troops brought on a brisk affair for a few moments and then 
retired to reform. 

The design to break away from the Wilderness in search of 
other fields for further fray had now taken shape. Darkness 
was to conceal the movement, and, when the night of the 7th 
had fully settled, the army, moving with a painful, solemn 
silence, beginning on the right, cautiously unwound itself from 
the front of the watchful foe. The 6th Corps was to move by 



— 4°6 — 

the Turnpike and Catharpin Road to Alsop's, near Spottsyl- 
vania Court-House, there to unite with the 5th, which was 
directed to reach the same destination by the shorter route of 
the Brock Road. 

The highly responsible duty of corps officer of the pickets 
was committed to Colonel Herring. It could have fallen to no 
more efficient keeping, nor a detail been selected of more trusty 
troops. ■ This was its composition : the 20th Maine Regiment, 
Major Ellis Spear; the 16th Michigan, Major R. S. Elliott; the 
1 1 8th Pennsylvania, Major Henry O'Neill, and detachments of 
six companies from the 22d and one company from the 9th 
Massachusetts, under Captain Frederick H. Field. 

The command was in readiness in the late afternoon. Col- 
onel Herring, to prevent the movement of the main body of 
troops from being observed, ordered an advance of his line. 
The 20th Maine, with its right resting upon the Turnpike, 
moved forward with its usual vigor, and at the distance of five 
hundred yards from the main line struck the enemy's pickets. 
Major Spear pressed them persistently, keeping them moving 
with rapidity for fully five hundred yards more over an open 
field, until they covered themselves with the protection of their 
works, and found shelter after a hard run under cover of their 
guns. The major was now some three-quarters of a mile from 
his own line, when from the edge of the woods on the opposite 
side of the field he was opened on heavily by both artillery and 
musketry. His purpose was accomplished and he was ordered 
to retire. This he did successfully, and with the rest of the 
pickets remained in position until one o'clock on the morning 
of the 8th, when the whole line withdrew to a designated point 
of concentration preparatory to taking up the march to join the 
corps, then well on its way to Alsop's. 

Simultaneously with the advance of the 20th Maine Major 
Elliott advanced with the 16th Michigan deployed as skir- 
mishers. After covering some distance, estimated by him to be 
about a mile, but doubtless not so far, he met the enemy. His 
centre and left wing drove the enemy from his rifle-pits, inflict- 



— W — 

ing considerable loss. The rifle-pits were not tenable and 
Major Elliott withdrew a short distance to the crest of a hill 
and there maintained himself fighting until the line on his right 
gave way, when he too fell back for a half mile further, until 
the right having regained its ground, he again advanced, driv- 
ing the enemy and retaining the ground gained until the gen- 
eral withdrawal of the pickets to the point of concentration 
previously referred to. In this affair the 16th Michigan lost 
two killed and thirty-three wounded, their aggregate loss in it 
and the fight at Laurel Hill being five killed and forty-eight 
wounded and one officer and fifteen enlisted men missing. 

The march of the corps by the Brock Road, narrow and lined 
each side with dense timber, was wearisome. At daylight the 
sun shone as hotly as in August. Robinson's division lead- 
ing, had struck the enemy at Todd's Tavern, relieving Merritt's 
cavalry division, which, hindered by the thick undergrowth 
and heavy timber, had found it difficult to press him with any 
degree of rapidity. 

The enemy was Longstreet's corps, which had been moving 
all night by the Shady Grove Church Road, which runs parallel 
with and about a mile to the southward of the Brock. Our 
purpose was to seize the junction of the Block House Road, a 
road which, beginning on the Brock Road a mile and a half to 
the west of Alsop's House, connects it with the Shady Grove 
Church Road, which terminates at Snell's Bridge over the Po. 
This purpose was never accomplished. The enemy reached 
the junction first and never loosened his grip on this all-im- 
portant point. 

A half mile to the east of Alsop's the Brock Road forks. 
Robinson took the left, Griffin, Bartlett's brigade leading, the 
right fork. In the open ground about Alsop's, both divisions, 
moving on separate roads, became almost simultaneously 
seriously engaged, and ultimately were permanently checked 
in the timber beyond, where they found the enemy already 
fairly intrenched. Not so permanently checked as to stop 
further battle, for in fact that continued in this vicinity many 



— 4o8 — 

days, but so checked at least as to gain no substantial advan- 
tage. Robinson was severely wounded. 

Herring with his picket brigade, for such in numbers it really 
was, reached this new front about ten o'clock on the morning 
of the 8th, with the situation as has been described. He at 
once reported to General Warren, and, as was his privilege, 
having completed his tour of picket duty, suggested that he 
was ready to return his troops to their respective commands. 
This privilege was not accorded. He was informed that other 
important duty still awaited him and he was directed to hold 
his command together for further instructions. 

Crawford, after the battle of the morning, passed the right of 
Longstreet's corps, came unexpectedly upon Rodes's division 
of Ewell's moving by a flank, forced him back some three- 
quarters of a mile and was pressing him towards the crest of a 
prominent rise. It appears to have had the neighborhood 
designation of Laurel Hill. Such at least is the name by which 
it was known by those who gave it tragic prominence by their 
very brilliant feat of arms upon its crest at nightfall. Colonel 
Herring, with his-command still intact, with the exception of 
the regulars who had been relieved, was ordered to report to 
General Crawford to support this advance. 

Colonel Herring received no specific directions from General 
Crawford until about four o'clock in the afternoon, when he 
was ordered to advance in support of a brigade of Pennsylvania 
Reserves. He formed his line as well as the conformation of 
the ground would permit, with the 22d and 9th Massachusetts 
on the right, the 20th Maine and 118th on the left, the 16th 
Michigan in reserve. Much time was consumed in arranging 
for the movement, and it was six o'clock, then almost night in 
the shadows of this dense thicket of cedars and pines, before 
Herring began his advance. 

As the line advanced it came abruptly upon Crawford's 
in front, halted and firing. Herring too halted. All this 
time the enemy had kept up a continuous and rapid firing. 
It was now growing darker ; objects in the woods could not be 



409 




4 io — 

ii i M with <h .ini' t ii< is , the < olor ol the uniform! was nol dis- 
tinguishable. Suddenly and without unusual noi <■ the enemy 

iriced to a counter-charge, Without intimation the whole 
oi ( rawford'i line imm< diati ly disappeared, somewhal aflfci ting 
til- integrity oi Herring's, upon which the whole shock and 
force oi the attack fell. It was heroii ally and mccessfully re 

d, notably \>y the 20th Maine. Men foughl with despera 
tion. I lungered, fatigui d, di i< ouraged, th< y w< n goad* d to .1 
frenzied madness. Hand-to-hand conflicts were numerous; 
bayom 1 1 < ro ised frequently ; mu ik< I 1 w< re 1 lubbed repeatedly. 
Swords < lashed and revolvers thai had never lefl their hoist 1 1 
to l"- discharged in anger were freely used, Shouts, y -lis, 
imprecations, heard above the noi* ol battle, were incessant 
Alone, a mile beyond r< lii 1, menai ed by d< ath or captivity, the 
men were in a mood to fight and fight hard They were sus- 
tain! 'I by the om\ 1 1 i, who joined personally in the combat with 
great vigoi In the imperative necessity for action, action, 
action, time was nol afforded to load and men dropped their 
pic* es and < lin< hed 1 a< h other with a deadly grip, Front, real 
and flanl wi r< losl in the whirl ; organization was gone ; ■ ai h 
1 1 1.1 1 1 depi nded upon himsi II , darkness im r< a m d the 1 onfu tion 
and thi n iull hung upon p< rsonal b na< ity. Shouting helped 
to ' in '.hi. ry the combatants, and ours, deeper, louder, more 
determined, was the mosl as uring it was as s< in n and di 
perate a struggle as thesi troops, with all their varied experi 
(•hi e, saw during the enl ire war. 

Down a ravine upon the right flank the enemy made a final 
lunge. This the 16th Michigan received and successfully r< 
pulsed. I ritimat ly the whole fon e in fronl disappi an d, I illed, 
captured, wounded or driven back, and Herring was l< it a little 
time to gathei himself The nighl would soon be well spent 
and befon the day should break he must be directed to with- 
draw or be supported in his desperati strait, Thus far his 
soldi* rs had cov< red themselves with enviable renown. 

Trophies added to their famous deeds. The 20th Maine 
took ''VI nty sevi n prisoners and sent them to the rear. Othei 



— 4H — 

fell into their hands, but it was in the heat of action, and the 
paucity of numbers and the sharpness of the contest required 
that every man should be used for fight. None could be spared 
to guard the prisoners, and, though disarmed and ordered to 
the main line, it is more than likely most of them esca;. 
The 22d Massachusetts captured fifty, and Captain Benjamin 
Davis of that regiment took the colors of the 6th Alabama. 
Smaller numbers were secured by other regiments, and the 
whole number taken aggregated 200. 

Herring occupied the crest, but he was by no means secure. 
He was in advance of our lines. Our own main picket line 

well to his rear. The enemy, restive under hi 
pulse, his losses, the capture of his men and colors, was be- 
ginning to comprehend that all this had been accomplished 
with a force isolated from supports and far in' is own. 

The sound of movements, shiftings and manoeuvres indicated 
that he was preparing to retrieve the disaster. 

Colonel Herring made judicious dispositions to sustain him- 
self. He established his own picket line, found a small detach- 
ment of the 6th Corps, under Major Ellis, of the 49th N 
York, that iv I its way returning from some detached 

vice, which he utilized to cover his left, and changed the direc- 
tion of his right regiment to protect his right flank. Enjoining 
quiet, he then awaited the return of the officers whom he had 
sent to the rear for instructions. 

Lieutenant Stamwood, of the 20th Maine, Lieutenant Hand, 
onel Herring's own adjutant, and Lieutenant John J. Thomas, 
horn he delegated this duty, had : taslc For a l< 

time they struggled aimlessly through the woods, at times 
in the darkness. After striking the line, with all the assistance 
that was freely rendered from officers, some of them of high 
rank, disturbed, as they were, in their much-needed rest, they 
failed to discover General Crawford. Finally they came upon 
General Neill, commanding a division of the 6th Corps. To 
him they told the story of the engagement, explained the 
perilous exposure of Colonel Herring jX\, and receiving 



— 412 — 

instructions to direct him to withdraw at three o'clock in the 
morning, returned to communicate them. It was past midnight 
when they reached their commander and informed him he was 
still to hold on a few hours longer. 

The juncture continued critical. The pickets reported the 
enemy evidently forming for an attack ; the cracking of bush and 
undergrowth, the tramp of men which could not be mistaken, 
what was undoubtedly hushed and subdued tones of the human 
voice, confirmed their judgment. Herring determined to in no 
wise exceed the instructions, and with the perils that sur- 
rounded him to remain until the hour arrived indicated for his 
return. At last, with all the anxious, watchful waiting, the 
hour came. The regiments drew out by the left, moving 
parallel with each other. A caution to preserve unusual quiet 
was unnecessary. Each man knew the necessity, moved with 
delicate tread, exchanged no sound above a whisper, and firmly 
held his bayonet shank that it and the canteen, which could 
always be relied upon to make the most discordant noises, 
should make no sound. 

Colonel Herring preceded his command to advise the pickets 
of the main line of his approach. It was a wise precaution. 
Without it this brilliant affair of his might have had a most 
disastrous conclusion. The pickets had no right to expect 
anything from that direction but the enemy. There would 
have been no hesitation for investigation or inquiry, a volley 
was alone the reception awaiting a force approaching from the 
front. 

A suitable place was found within the lines for a bivouac dur- 
ing the little time left before all would be astir ; and tli£n report- 
ing at sunrise to General Crawford this gallant body, justly proud 
of their achievements, lauded without stint by their associates, 
commended handsomely by their superiors, returned to their 
commands to rehearse again and again to willing listeners the 
story of the night triumph upon the crest of Laurel Hill. 

The loss was proportionate to the severity of the engage- 
ment. In both affairs the 20th Maine lost 2 officers and 7 en- 



— 413 — 

listed men killed, 4 officers and 20 enlisted men wounded and 
4 missing, making a total of 37. Their loss was chiefly on the 
night of the 8th. The 16th Michigan lost 5 killed and 48 
wounded, 1 officer and 15 men missing, aggregating 69, mostly 
on the night of the 7th. The 22d and 9th Massachusetts de- 
tachment lost 10 men wounded and 4 missing, a total of 14. 
The 118th 5 killed, 24 wounded and 16 missing. The total 
loss in all the commands was 150. Proportionate to the num- 
bers, by this time in the campaign materially reduced, this was 
commensurate with the work accomplished and the time in 
which it was done. 

Among the wounded of the 11 8th was that very worthy sol- 
dier, who had been so prominent with the committee interview- 
ing the battery on the turnpike, Sergeant Theodore B. Fryer, 
and Corporal H. Toland, of K, Corporal William Hodge and 
Benjamin J. Stevens, of Company F. Stevens was subsequently 
killed at Peeble's Farm. Lieutenant Crossly was taken prisoner. 
His captivity was a short one ; he was released a few days sub- 
sequently when Sheridan made the dash at Beaver Dam Depot, 
but only to be again taken within a short time and to suffer a 
long imprisonment. 

Benjamin Day, of Company I, turned about to check the 
firing in his rear, under the belief it was from friends, when he 
was met with the usual demand to " drop that gun." There 
was no way out of it and he yielded. Day was a Marble Head 
Massachusetts Yankee and was of fluent speech. Summoned 
to the presence of a Confederate general officer, who sought 
information, he rattled away so glibly about the great cities of 
the North showing no indication of the presence of a war, that 
he was dismissed as a hopeless subject for the purposes in- 
tended, with the remark that his statements were unworthy of 
credence. 

Of the killed of the 20th Maine was Captain Morrell ; of the 
wounded Lieutenants Melcher and Prince. 

Colonel Herring had now notable prominence. He had 
achieved enduring honors, proven a capacity equal to the 



— 4H — 

severest test, and worthily sustained that enviable reputation 
which he had always borne. 

After the war, in the course of a correspondence occasionally 
exchanged between Colonel Herring and General Warren, the 
general thus recalls the incident : " Your successful engagement 
with the enemy on the evening of the 8th of May, two years 
ago, with its captures, will help relieve a record made up of 
many gloomy repulses so trying to us all." 

No active operations were contemplated, and on the 9th the 
army was given a day of rest. It may have been a rest as 
matters had been going, and was probably properly so styled, 
if the chieftains conceived they needed at least twenty-four 
hours for conjecture and consideration, but, whatever it was, a 
rattle of small arms enlivened the picket line during all the 
hours of daylight. 

The 6th Corps was shifted to the left, extending the line in 
that direction. General Burnside moved with the 9th Corps 
from Aldrich's, on the Orange and Fredericksburg Turnpike, 
to Gates's House, on the road from Fredericksburg to Spott- 
sylvania Court-House, crossing the Ny with Wilson's cavalry 
division and a portion of Stevenson's, encountering a small 
force of cavalry and a brigade of Longstreet's corps. General 
Hancock closed up from Todd's Tavern, where he had been 
severely engaged on the 8th, to the right of the 5th Corps, and 
the latter corps remained in the same general position it had 
first taken upon its arrival in this vicinity. 

" In the morning General Sedgwick was killed close to the 
intrenchments at the right of his corps, but not under cover, 
at the point where the forks of the road in Alsop's field 
unite."* 

His loss cast a gloom over the entire army. It was indeed a 
serious loss to the army, the country and his corps. Equally 
distinguished, most beloved of all the commanders, he was a 
soldier eminently fitted for the occasion. Well and widely 
known, he had grown in efficiency as the war progressed. 

*" The Campaign of '64 and '65," Humphrey, p. 71. 



— 415 — 

Actively participating in every engagement, he had acquired a 
high reputation. His reliability was his distinguishing char- 
acteristic. Ever absent from cabal and combination, he 
was free from the many complications that followed the fre- 
quent changes of army commanders. Arms was his chosen 
profession. In it he had learned that obedience and loyalty 
are as essential in high as in lesser rank. As faithful to one chief 
as to another, he had the confidence of his superiors and was 
trusted by his government. His honest-hearted, manly courage, 
his care, consideration and forethought had won for him the 
admiration of his soldiers. General Horatio G. Wright, un- 
der whom the 6th Corps retained its high repute, succeeded to 
the command. 

On the way from the Wilderness to Spottsylvania, tempted 
by the sight of a house by the roadside, and urged by the 
gnawings of hunger, four of the 118th, evidently like-minded, 
dropped out. It subsequently appeared that Osborn, of F, 
was the promoter of the scheme and had intimated his purpose 
to the others. Approaching the porch they were confronted 
by the proprietress, to whom they communicated their famished 
condition, and politely stated that the object of their call was to 
ask, not take, from the family supplies sufficient only to satisfy 
a craving appetite. Indifferent to quality, or variety, anything, 
so it was bountiful in quantity, would answer the ravenous de- 
mands of their emptiness. The lady stoutly and persistently 
insisted that her larder was empty ; that she was wholly with- 
out the food necessary to sustain herself and those about her, 
and anxiously awaited the withdrawal of the armies, that she 
might journey to a neighbor's farm, from whom the armies had 
not forced a contribution of their all, and borrow or beg suffi- 
cient to keep her household going. 

While this interview progressed, what was evidently a groan 
of distress was frequently heard escaping from the adjoining 
room. The lady, when asked what it was, though the groans 
were plainly audible and proving more frequent, strenuously in- 
sisted that it was nothing. Determined to satisfy his curiosity, 



— 416 — 

and against her urgent protests, one of the party ventured to 
open the door. There upon the floor lay a Confederate sol- 
dier mortally wounded. Anticipating that his end would be 
hastened by a merciless butchery, for that was the real reason 
the lady had attempted to conceal his whereabouts, she vehe- 
mently pleaded that he should be permitted to pass away peace- 
fully. Her astonishment knew no bounds when she found her 
unbidden guests were disposed to minister to the sufferings of 
the wounded Confederate. 

The soldier had a fatal cut, about three inches long, in the 
right side of his abdomen, from which his bowels protruded. 
He was in great agony and knew his end was near. Osborn 
having some little knack in such matters, proceeded to close 
the wound and restore the parts. He bound a towel tightly 
around his patient and bade him lie perfectly still. The sol- 
dier, much relieved, was very grateful. Tied in a corner of his 
shirt was a silver half-dollar, all his earthly possessions, which 
he was anxious should be given to his sister. In the presence 
of those who had so kindly ministered to him, he begged the 
lady of the house, who knew his sister, to communicate to her 
that it was his dying request that the coin should be sent to 
her. 

The sight of such considerate treatment softened the hostess. 
She had not spoken truthfully when she asserted her supplies 
were gone, and, without further request, she summoned a negro 
servant, and soon a table laden with corn-bread and bacon 
greeted the vision of the famished four. They proceeded to do 
full justice to the generous repast, and had not yet completed 
it when, with a long, expiring groan, the wounded Confederate 
soldier passed away forever. At the request of their hostess, 
Osborn and his party stopped to decently inter him. The half- 
dollar was found and kept to be delivered in accordance with 
the soldier's dying directions. His lady friend, whom he had 
made his executrix, promised to see them faithfully carried out. 
An old darkey dug the grave, a blanket was rolled around the 
body, and Osborn, with a pathetic manner, which he claimed 



— 417 — 

was eminently suited to the occasion, delivered a suitable 
funeral discourse. 

Between the lengthy parley, the satisfactory meal, the hos- 
pital attendance and the funeral service, the time of the absence 
of this party had lengthened out considerably. But their 
movements, expedited in proportion to their increased physical 
strength, brought them to the front in ample time to find mat- 
ters in a condition by no means attractive. 

The movements on the morning of the ioth indicated an in- 
tention to assault, but with no definite purpose. Hancock the 
night before had crossed the Po and so threatened the integrity 
of the enemy's left as to cause him to throw some of his best 
troops to that locality. Warren, meanwhile, having reported 
his front as favorable for assault, was directed to attack, and 
Hancock ordered to send two divisions to his support. These 
he withdrew across the Po in the face of the enemy successfully, 
but with considerable loss, leaving the enemy, however, under 
the impression that he had suffered defeat. Hancock sub- 
sequently reported that if he had not been acting under imper- 
ative orders, and had been permitted to have his own way, 
there would have been another story of the left, and the 
enemy would not have rested under the impression that he had 
administered a defeat. It was afterwards conceded that 
Hancock's movement, begun on the morning of the ioth, in- 
stead of the night of the 9th, and pressed vigorously, was the 
one which was the most likely of success. 

General Warren never appeared to better advantage. Him- 
self burning with the conviction that he had secured a vulner- 
able point for an assault, and a favorable opportunity for an 
immediate attack, his enthusiasm was in some way communi- 
cated to his troops, and they, wholly without the knowledge 
he possessed, seemed intuitively impressed with a like convic- 
tion. Wearing his full uniform, he was conspicuously promi- 
nent. He was on all parts of the field, encouraging his sol- 
diers by his presence and stimulating them by his example to 
unusual activity. 
27 



— 418 — 

Crawford's and Cutler's, formerly Wadsworth's, division — - 
Robinson's had been broken up and his troops distributed to 
the others — with Webb's and Carroll's brigade of Gibbon's 
division of the 2d Corps, proceeded to assault the enemy's 
works. They gained the abatis, a few the intrenchments, but 
were driven back. With all their enthusiasm and gallantry, 
they were only to furnish another proof of the futility of a direct 
assault against well-manned breastworks. Upton with his own 
brigade and other troops of the 6th Corps, co-operating on the 
left, met with more success. He captured the first line and 
took many prisoners, but unsupported, outflanked, and stub- 
bornly resisted at the second line, he too was compelled to retire. 

Bartlett's brigade, except that it was engaged in heavy skir- 
mishing, took no active part in this day's operations. It was 
moved about to different points in support of the charging col- 
umns, and had formed in line in front of the breastworks at 
Spindler's peach orchard, ready to advance, when the main as- 
sault proving a failure, all other operations for the day were 
abandoned. 

The country about Spottsylvania Court-House is inter- 
spersed with open fields, and the ridges and knolls are promi- 
nent. Where the timber still stood it was of the same dense, 
impenetrable character as in the Wilderness. Between the 
Brock Road and the road from Fredericksburg to Spottsylva- 
nia Court-House there are no connecting roadways, and all the 
movements made towards the enemy's right and back again 
were conducted across country, except where occasional planta- 
tion roads intervened. The enemy had control of all the main 
highways, and his movements were facilitated by easier travel, 
interior and shorter lines. In front of all his intrenchments in 
the woods he had slashed the timber and in the open con- 
structed abatis. The farms, Alsop's, Landrum's, Shelton's, 
Brown's, McCool's and others now historically familiar as the 
scenes of some of the distinctively severe assaults, were large, 
all of them plantations of four hundred acres and upwards. 
The nearer the Court-House the more open is the country. 



419 — 




— 420 



To the eastward and southward it was generally all cleared 
land, and timber was the exception. 

Except a light shower on the 7th the weather had been clear 
and generally unusually warm. On the nth rain fell heavily, 
and the storm continued throughout the night. During the 
day there was no positive demonstration. The skirmishers 
were pressed close against the enemy. Active firing followed, 




A WET DAY ON PICKET. 

accompanied by occasional discharges of artillery. Lieutenant 
Thomas was wounded by a piece of shell. 

The instructions to corps commanders had been to ascertain 
what, if any, changes had been made in their front, the least 
force sufficient to hold their positions, and what force was 



— 421 — 

available for offensive movements, the object being to ascertain 
where a concentrated attack might be most effectively made 
and with what force. 

In one of the many affairs so significantly designated as feel- 
ing the enemy to ascertain his strength, John L. King, of Com- 
pany E, now a minister of the gospel at Lysander, N. Y., was 
taken prisoner. He had been whirled around in the usual tur- 
moil which follows such occasions when the feeling has been 
accomplished and the strength ascertained sufficiently to let the 
feelers know they have no business there, when, wiping the 
dust and perspiration from his eyes, he found himself con- 
fronted by a line of battle. "Where's the 1 1 8th Pennsyl- 
vania?" innocently inquired King. " Ground your arms," was 
the reply, accompanied by the usual volume of wordy pyro- 
technics aptly suited to just such occasions only. Not yet 
fully realizing his situation nor altogether satisfied with the 
response, he yelled still louder: "Where's the 118th Pennsyl- 
vania?" The " throw down your rifle and remove your ac- 
coutrements " was now emphasized by the ready and aim of a 
half-dozen muskets. The click of the triggers brought King 
to a more comprehensive sense of his situation, and compla- 
cently yielding, he was marched to the rear to the zip of our 
own minies and kept closely as a prisoner until the end of the 
war. He rejoined the regiment in time to participate in the 
grand review. 

The 1 2th was the day of the heaviest fighting at Spottsyl- 
vania. The rain continued to fall at intervals, at times hard. 
The previous experiences of the army, that fighting must cease 
with the daylight, had been worthless as a basis on which to 
frame opinions in this campaign. From the very beginning 
darkness never stopped a battle when there was opportunity to 
continue it, and now that other notion, born, too, of experience, 
that with the rain hostilities were suspended, was effectually ex- 
ploded. The heavy fighting of the I2th continued without in- 
terruption through the hardest showers with the same vehe- 
mence as if the sun had shone in the brightest rays of all its 
summer brilliancy. 



— 422 — 

General Hancock had moved during the afternoon and even- 
ing from the right of the army, and by midnight was in posi- 
tion in front of the open fields of Brown and Landrum to at- 
tack the apex of a salient in the enemy's works. This salient 
was in advance of the main line and protected a high piece of 
ground which. General Ewell said, if controlled by our forces, 
would have enabled our artillery to command their line. Its 
west angle, at which and along the apex the fighting continued 
incessantly from 4.30 in the morning, the hour of Hancock's 
assault, until three o'clock the next morning, when the enemy 
withdrew, was afterwards known as the "bloody angle." It is 
better styled by the Confederates as the " bloody bend," for it 
was in fact more of a bend than an angle. 

General Burnside was to operate with Hancock on the left, 
General Warren was to hold the position vacated by the 2d 
Corps, to shorten his line whenever he deemed it judicious, and 
both he and General Wright, leaving sufficient troops to hold 
the intrenchments, were ordered to be in readiness " to attack 
in their fronts " or " move elsewhere and attack," according to 
the developments of the day. 

General Hancock's attack was completely successful. His 
troops passed through the abatis and over the intrenchments, 
capturing nearly 4,000 prisoners, among them Major-General 
Edward Johnson and Brigadier-General George H. Stewart, 
twenty pieces of artillery, several thousand stands of small 
arms and upwards of twenty colors. General Hancock pur- 
sued the enemy in the direction of Spottsylvania Court-House, 
until he encountered a second and formidable line of intrench- 
ments, when the enemy assuming the offensive, our troops 
having lost all organization in the charge fell back to the line 
of the apex. Russell's and Neill's divisions, of the 6th Corps, 
were hurried to the aid of the 2d. General Wright made re- 
peated assaults upon the west angle, but failed to drive the 
enemy from its inner face. The combatants continued the 
deadly struggle for nearly twenty-four hours, the one on the 
outer and the other on the inner face of the intrenchments, 



— 4^3 — 

until Lee finally withdrew to his interior lines. It was hardly 
practicable to change the troops along this line. Changes were 
only made occasionally, and then in order to replenish ammu- 
nition. The ammunition was mostly carried to the rear of the 
troops engaged. The boxes were thrown down along the line 
and armloads of packages supplied the place of the cartridge- 
box, which was not used after it was first emptied. Of this part 
of the action so cautious a writer as General Humphrey, in his 
Virginia Campaign of '64 and '65, on page 9, says : "At the 
west angle the fighting was literally murderous." 

What had occurred on the left had given the impression that 
Warren's front was materially weakened. He was consequently 
ordered to attack with his whole force if necessary. This he 
did, but was repulsed. Longstreet's corps, in which there had 
been no substantial change, was still holding the intrenchments 
in force. 

A further demonstration on the left was now ordered to be 
made, and Warren's corps was sent to renew the attack at the 
salient. Cutler's division reached the ground and became en- 
gaged. Griffin's followed, but before his arrival the project was 
abandoned, as too much had already been sacrificed and a fur- 
ther prosecution of the effort did not promise success. 

During these engagements the 1 18th, deployed as skirmishers, 
held the extreme right of the army. It was, in fact, a picket de- 
tail, but it was so essential to cover a large front that it assumed 
more the character of skirmishing. Crossing the Po during 
the night, shortly after the withdrawal of Hancock, the regi- 
ment from that time, during all the day and night of the 12th, 
remained in position and was not relieved until noon of the 
13th. The skirmishers were more or less engaged, and com- 
pelled in their much exposed and highly responsible post to be 
actively on the alert. During Warren's assault they lay be- 
tween the artillery fire of both sides, and both before and after 
they were frequently vigorously shelled themselves. They lost 
men in killed and wounded, and when they withdrew across 
the Po did so under fire. The following is a despatch from 



— 424 — 

General Crawford, who had general charge of that locality, 
sent to Colonel Herring during the night of the 12th : 

f Head-quarters Pennsylvania Reserves, 
I May 12, 1864, 9.30 o'clock p. m. 

Lieutenant-Colonel Herring, Commanding Right Flank Pickets : 

The general commanding directs that you strengthen the point of attack on your 
line. The line is important and must be held — feel well to your right. It is not 
thought that the enemy will make any serious attack on you before the intended 
disposition of the line is made. Send in a report of the extent and character of 
the demonstration made on your line. 
By command of 

Brigadier-General Crawford, Commanding Division. 

RoiiERT A. McCoy, A. A. G. 

The enemy having been so severely handled on his left dur- 
ing the day, it was feared he might attempt to retrieve himself 
elsewhere, and our weakened right was the subject of some 
anxiety. 

The 13th was a gloomy day; at times it poured, at no time 
was it clear. The lengthy tour of picket duty terminated at 
noon, and the corps — Crawford's division and the picket detail 
had not moved on the 12th — was concentrating for its famous 
night's march to the left of the army and the eastward of 
the Ny. 

General Warren was ordered to move immediately after dark 
by Landrum's and Shelton's, over a farm road, to a ford across 
the Ny ; thence over the country to the Fredericksburg and 
Spottsylvania Court-House road, and then, recrossing the Ny 
and forming on the left of Burnside, to attack the enemy at four 
o'clock in the morning at a point that had been designated. 
The 6th Corps was to follow him. 

The night was dark; the rain poured incessantly. On the 
slightest break in the column those in advance would disappear 
entirely, and what was behind would be compelled to halt 
until somebody found them or by some accident they made 
connection with the advance. Fires were built along the route 
and staff officers and guides posted at intervals to light and 
direct the struggling column, cursing and floundering knee- 



— 425 — 

deep in mud and mire that stuck with an unyielding persistency. 
But it was of no avail ; the corps could not make the headway 
calculated as necessary to accomplish the purpose in view at 
the end of its journey. Of this march General Humphreys, 
that eminently reliable historian, who has been so often referred 
to and who cannot be too frequently quoted or consulted, says : 
" The mud was deep over a large part of the route ; the dark- 
ness was intense, so that literally you could not see your hand 
before your face." 




HALT IN THE NIGHT MARCH. 

The head of the column reached its destination at the hour 
designated, but the corps was mad, scattered and broken along 
the entire route. It was neither practicable nor possible to 
shape it into columns of attack within the hour of darkness to 
make the assault effectively at the break of day. The attempt 
was consequently abandoned. 

As the day grew older the army awakened to new sensations, 
to a buoyancy and invigoration it had not known since it first 
buried itself in the wilds of the Wilderness. The fighting had 



— 426 — 

not ceased, nor was the battle over ; as yet the pickets spoke 
contentiously with " significant frequency " and the guns roared 
occasionally in " sonorous cadency." But the land was all 
aglow with sunlight, all the heavy, sombre clouds had disap- 
peared, the pelting rain had ceased to fall, every blade and 
spear of grass danced and glistened in the radiance of a noon- 
day sun in hues of brightest green, fresh in the primitive glories 
of an early summer verdure. The sweltering heat and dense 
humidity had gone, and the great army, as if it were a great 
city, revived under the influences of the stiff invigorating breeze. 
And then it was a country of field and farm, of cultivation and 
tillage, of crops and harvest. The dreary, woeful, timber- 
stricken region had been left forever. Well-kept gardens, com- 
fortable homes dotted distant knolls and far-off slopes, and all 
between was field of rolling sward. Here and there stood 
woods of straight and lofty pines. The sluggish Ny traced a 
devious course over fallow and meadow and through the wood, 
until it lost itself in the greater streams beyond. 

It was the vivid contrast, the sudden burst of sunlight, the 
cheering change from pent-up forest to broad, open plain, that 
threw a coloring o'er the scene it could not have commanded 
of itself alone. It was for this, and all this, that the army 
breathed freer. Like the man whose weary task is finished, 
whose heavy burden is lifted, who has attained what he never 
dared anticipate, the soldier felt as he does, that with ball and 
bat and kite and top and every implement of youthful sport he 
could be a very boy again. It was a short shift of relief; but, 
limited as it was, the army never returned through all the rest 
of the great campaign to such a feeling of depression as hung 
over it through the Wilderness and part of Spottsylvania. 

Late in the afternoon a bold, round hill on the south bank of 
the Ny, upon which was a well-appointed farmer's dwelling, 
was the scene of a sudden and hurried repulse. The hill did 
not seem to stand relatively to either side as suitable to hold, 
but as a commanding eminence for observation was a decided 
acquisition to us. Upton, with his own and part of the Jersey 



— 427 — 

brigade, 6th Corps, a force aggregating about 800 men, had 
crossed the river and disposed his forces for a temporary occu- 
pancy. The pickets were thrown out to the edge of a piece of 
timber some quarter of a mile to the front. This wood was 
well calculated to cover the enemy in any attempt on the hill. 
General Meade, with a number of his staff, had accompanied 
Upton, remaining with him some time. The enemy, mean- 
while, had not been idle. The detached force, the unusual 
number of mounted officers with it, had attracted atten- 
tion, and Lee was not slow to seize his opportunity to rout 
or capture it. He quietly moved a large force of cavalry and 
infantry, far exceeding Upton's, to the edge of the timber, suc- 
cessfully concealing his operations until the entire body was 
ready for the advance. General Meade had just left, when, 
with a vigorous rush, the enemy's column ran over the pickets, 
swooped down on the main body and Upton and the Jersey- 
men were hustled over the river without a full comprehension 
of exactly what had struck them. Several prominent officers 
fell killed and mortally wounded, but neither in killed, wounded 
or prisoners was the loss as large as might have been expected. 
By some good fortune most everybody got away to the other 
side of the river, and in a little while the integrity of the two 
commands was fully restored. It was nearing darkness when 
Ayres's brigade was sent to regain the hill. The stream 
was waist-deep, with steep and slimy banks. There was no 
road or ford-crossing. The distance between the bank of the 
stream and the base of the hill was not sufficient for deploy- 
ment, and the line of battle moved into the water from the 
open fields. Upon the other side but a moment was necessary 
to rectify the alignement, and then, advancing handsomely up 
the hill, Ayres drove the enemy from his lofty perch, and he in 
turn was unceremoniously hustled back to his own lines, as 
Upton had been to his. This affair of the regulars, happening 
in full view of a greater part of the troops of both the 5th and 
6th Corps, brought them much commendation. 

Before the army moved from Spottsylvania the house upon 



— 428 — 

the hill was fired and with all its outbuildings totally destroyed. 
The owner had abandoned it before our troops appeared. An 
aged servant who remained said his master's name was Ander- 
son. Upon the official map of the battle-field Anderson's name 
is applied to a house in another locality. The house indicated on 
the map as most likely to be the one where the affair occurred 
is noted as Gayle's. 

Three days followed of a rather uneventful character. It 
was a season of comparative rest with but little excitement and 
only occasional firing. The lines were advanced and heavily 
entrenched. The work was usually done during the night, 
and the sight of the new entrenchments in the morning gen- 
erally provoked fierce shelling, which was promptly replied to. 
It did not prove very damaging and soon ceased, and then the 
pickets would worry away a while until, tiring of a resultless 
effort, a tacit consent stopped the dangerous amusement. All 
this was in the open country and both sides had full opportunity 
of observation. A greater part of the 5th Corps lay within 
full sight of the court-house. The casualties were not nu- 
merous. Among them was John Clay, of Company C, mortally 
wounded. 

The fortifications were more than ordinarily substantial. 
The men had become skilled in their construction. Except 
that their slopes were not sodded, they looked like permanent 
works, and in the feature of sentries pacing the ramparts 
wholly so. 

This continuous contact was breeding the usual picket famil- 
iarity. The suggestions for more friendly relations first came 
from the enemy, with the proposition to exchange newspapers. 
It was cordially accepted, but had made but little headway 
when it was discovered and promptly checked. 

Occasionally, when the pickets would cease firing for a con- 
siderable time, the Confederates were seen sitting and standing 
upon their works, with their clothing partially removed, ex- 
amining their shirts with close and critical attention. This 
naturally provoked inquiry, and to the interrogation as to what 



— 4^9 — 

in the thunder they were at, they replied that they had been 
very busy of late, and having had no leisure to " hunt 'em," 
they were determined to utilize this opportunity for investiga- 
tion until every "varment" should be extirpated. 

So many friends and relatives desired to visit the front to 
look after the bodies of the dead or care for the wounded that the 
War Department was forced to forbid it. It was no easy mat- 
ter to secure a pass, and, if one was secured, to accomplish the 
purpose intended was a difficult and dangerous undertaking. 
Among those fortunate in securing a pass was Mr. James C. 
Wray, of Philadelphia. His mission threw him among some 
old associates, officers of the 6th Corps. He had been with 
them for a day or two and was continuously and urgently 
pressing his desire to see, as he styled it, a live rebel in arms. 
It so happened that in front of the 6th Corps at that time the 
pickets were not in close contact, nor was the enemy in sight. 
To the right, however, in front of the 5th, the view he de- 
sired could be readily obtained. So one afternoon when there 
was no reasonable prospect of a movement, yielding to the 
urgency of the appeal, a friend of Mr. Wray in the adjutant- 
general's department consented to conduct him to a point 
where he might satisfy his curiosity, explaining that the errand 
would likely involve some personal risk. Mr. Wray was not 
equipped for active field operations, the part of his dress most 
unsuitable for campaigning being a high silk hat. 

The two rode off in the direction of the nearest picket reserve 
of the 5th Corps. The officer in charge was loath to permit 
them to go beyond it, but after explanations and much persua- 
sion, as the line had been quiet for some hours, he finally cor 
sented. Leaving their horses and proceeding some hundred 
yards farther, Wray and his escort came upon an outpost. For 
a time nothing could be seen. The enemy's line was distant 
some five hundred yards, and it was only the experienced eye 
that could detect the little upheavals of earth that concealed the 
Confederate pickets, and only the knowledge born of experience 
that told that behind each one of these upheavals was what our 



— 43° — 

friend most desired to see. He had tarried so long that he be- 
lieved his mission a failure, when a Confederate picket, gather- 
ing assurance from the lengthy quiet that he might safely 
expose himself, rose to his full height, doubtless to seek relief 
in a good, vigorous stretch. Wray was all excitement. He 
seemed to be the first to discover him. " There's one now ! " 
shouted he, and believing that death, swift and certain, was the 
only punishment for a rebel in arms, yelled out: " Shoot him; 
d — n him, shoot him ! " The soldier on the outpost, not willing 
to be thought derelict by a citizen, " let go," and then another 
picket " let go," and then the other side " let go," and Wray 
soon found himself in the midst of an active little picket fight, 
provoked by his own desire to see, as he thought, justice duly 
administered. He bore up under it manfully, and retired in 
good soldierly shape. Remounting their horses, the two rode 
away as rapidly as decency would permit, the zip of the bullets 
continuing until they had outdistanced them. Mr. Wray con- 
ceived that he had more than satisfied his curiosity, but hav- 
ing safely passed through such an unusual experience for a 
citizen, concluded that it would be a remembrance well worth 
cherishing. 

Those whose privilege it was to know of the movements for 
the 1 8th were so sanguine of their success that, without ex- 
pressing them, they referred to their result as likely to end the 
war, certain to overthrow the Army of Northern Virginia. As 
they had been suggested by General Wright, this over sanguine 
conviction was confined principally to his corps. . The heavy 
developments on our left, it was conceived, had so weakened 
the enemy's left that an attack on his works in the vicinity 
of the battle-field of the 12th would prove successful. For this 
purpose the 2d and 6th Corps were moved on the night of the 
17th to Landrum's. The artillery was posted in the entrench- 
ments at the apex of the salient. Gibbon's division advanced 
to beyond the McCool House. The interior lines had been 
materially strengthened ; where they were in the woods they 
were protected by slashings, and in the open by abatis. The 



— 43i — 

division was repulsed with loss. The attack of the 6th Corps 
was in progress, when learning of the resistance met with by 
Gibbon and the formidable character of the works, General 
Meade ordered the operations suspended. The artillery of the 
5th Corps — that was the part it was designed to play until 
offensive operations were necessary — was heavily engaged. 
The heavy entrenchments constructed by the corps a few days 
before, and previously referred to, were built with a purpose to 
further this operation by drawing still greater attention to a 
determination to concentrate on our left. 

The 6th Corps returned to its position to the east and south 
of the Ny. Burnside was moved to its left; Hancock remained 
near the Landrum House, preparatory to a movement looking 
to the opening of the roads to the southward, and the 5th Corps 
now became the right of the army. Its right was extended to 
the vicinity of the Harris House and the works beyond the 
crossing of the Ny, by the Fredericksburg and Spottsylvania 
Court-House Road. 

The Ny is, as may be judged from the text, a very tortuous 
stream. Before it crosses this road it flows due east for half a 
mile, just before reaching it bearing off a little to the south- 
east. After crossing the road it turns abruptly to the south, 
and flows in that direction a little upwards of a mile. Then it 
resumes its easterly course for a short distance, and again 
turning to the southeast so continues until its junction with 
the Po. 

That portion of the 5th Corps which extended to the north- 
ward covered the Spottsylvania Court-House and Fredericks- 
burg Road, the only route by which supplies reached the army. 
Still to the right of the corps, and covering the road, Tyler's 
heavy artillery, a splendid division from the fortifications at 
Washington, that had never yet been in action, lay in bivouac, 
halted on its march to join the Army of the Potomac. Ewell, 
demonstrating on Lee's left to ascertain whether a belief that 
the Army of the Potomac was drawing away from Spottsyl- 
vania was well founded, came upon this force of Tyler's. An 



— 432 — 

engagement followed of some magnitude. Kitching's brigade 
of heavy artillery, relieved from duty as guard to the Reserve 
Artillery, and now part of and the extreme right of the 5th, was 
also at once involved. Both the brigade and division behaved 
handsomely and suffered severely. Other troops were needed. 
Warren, who was nearest, was ordered to send reinforcements. 
His Maryland brigade reached the field in time to take an ac- 
tive and effective part in the fight. Before the affair was over 
every corps but Burnside's had been tapped. Hancock sent 
Gibbon and Birney ; Warren added Crawford ; from far away 
on the left, Wright hurried Russell along. Ewell went away 
discomfited, leaving a pretty heavy list of casualties to attest 
the severity of his punishment. 

This encounter delayed the preparations for the ultimate 
abandonment of the operations about Spottsylvania Court- 
House, and the further prolongation of the "jug-handle" move- 
ment, which had become the popular army designation for all 
the manoeuvres now well understood, that had in contemplation 
the envelopment of the enemy's right flank. Hancock, however, 
was off on the 20th and Warren followed the next day. The 
5th Corps pickets were withdrawn in the afternoon long before 
dark. The 1 1 8th, or a detachment of it, under Captain Wilson, 
was on the line. The opportunity was too tempting to resist, 
and the enemy opened with a rattle of small arms and salvos 
of artillery, but fleet of foot, and spurred by a desire to tempo- 
rarily, at least, dissever an association which had grown weari- 
some and monotonous, the details were soon under cover of 
the timber and within the protection of the corps lines. Our 
people, forced to this scurry by orders to retire, were compelled 
to take some decidedly opprobrious talk from the enemy with- 
out opportunity for resentment. " Stop, you cowardly Yanks ; 
drop your guns, d — n you, or turn and use them," were phrases 
heard as distinctly as the whiz of the bullets. But General 
Griffin, seated composedly on his horse, as our men reached 
their cover, encouraged them with the assurance that their run 
was all a part of the game, and that others were at hand to re- 



— 433 — 

sent the insult. And so they were, for when all the pickets 
were safely stowed away, a counter-charge gathered in a goodly 
number of the enemy, who in the wild excitement of success 
had ventured beyond the bounds of prudence. 

It was night before the column was well aWay. A brilliant 
moonlight shimmered on the bloody field, and the determina- 
tion as to which of the mighty chieftains had the better of the 
other in the fourteen days of doughty fight at Spottsylvania 
was relegated to the judgment of history. 




CHARGE OF THE FIRST MICHIGAN SKIRMISHERS IN THE FIRST DAY'S 
FIGHT IN THE WILDERNESS. 
28 



CHAPTER XVII. 



NORTH ANNA — BETHESDA CHURCH — COLD HARBOR. 



RABLE lands, wayside villages, the 
country store, grist and saw-mills, 
railway stations, were helpful to 
good cheer and encouraging re- 
minders of the better things at 
home. Such were the features 
noticeable for their frequency be- 
tween the Ny and the Anna. It 
was a thrifty country and appar- 
ently a prosperous people. War's 
despoiling hand in such a region 
rested with a greater severity upon 
^ the inhabitants and their belong- 
ings than in the sparsely settled, 
unproductive waste late the scene 
of such fierce, enduring fight. But 
Virginia's cup was not yet full. 
Her fair fields already trodden 
and wasted were but typical of the devastation yet to follow. 

The 5th Corps continued to move on the 21st to Guinea 
Station, on the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac Rail- 
way, about eight miles from the court-house ; then crossing at 
Guinea Bridge, below the junction of the Po and Ny, it halted 
for the night about nine o'clock at Catlet's, sending forward 
detachments towards Mud Tavern and Madison's Store. The 
latter place is about a mile from Nancy Wright's, on the Tele- 
graph Road, the main road to Richmond. Detachments of 

(434) 




— 435 — 

the enemy's cavalry were at the bridge when the corps ap- 
proached it and continued in front as it advanced. 

All the army was trending southward. So too was Lee, but 
not for the purpose it was hoped he would. The 2d Corps 
had been thrown well away from the main army, some twenty 
miles, in the hope that the temptation might lure Lee to attack 
it, and then the others were so held that they could swoop 
down on him overwhelmingly for his temerity. But the pro- 
ject worked ill. Lee seemed to covet no such opportunity, 
and, content with simply interposing himself between us and 
Richmond, turned our movement into the usual genuine flank- 
ing operation, as it was intended it should be considered, if Lee 
could not be coaxed or tempted to a combat with the isolated 
corps. 

The column moved again early on the morning of the 22d. 
Bartlett^s brigade led the corps. General Bartlett had been a 
few days on the sick-list and the command had devolved upon 
Colonel Chamberlain. The march by way of Madison's Ordi- 
nary and Nancy Wright's was to terminate for the night at 
Harris's Store. The latter place is near the Telegraph Road 
and on the cross-road from Childsburg to Milford, a station on 
the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac Railroad. Han- 
cock had arrived at Milford .the day before and been directed 
to remain. Wright was following Warren ; Burnside was to 
the north and east, near Bethel Church, on a cross-road from 
Madison's Ordinary to Bowling Green. 

On the night of the 2 1st Warren's cavalry outpost at Leb- 
anon Church had heard the noise of troops all night passing 
along the Telegraph Road, and in the early morning some 
part of the trains accompanying the troops were in view. A 
detachment sent out in search of information ascertained that 
Ewell's and Longstreet's corps had passed over the road the 
night before. 

Upon arriving at Madison's a part of the corps was trans- 
ferred to the Telegraph Road, the rest taking a road one mile 
to the east and running parallel with it. Stragglers of the 



— 436 — 

enemy's infantry were picked up, and Longstreet's corps was 
reported but three miles in advance. Rosser's cavalry was en- 
countered at the crossing of the Mat river, near Dr. Flipper's. 

It was Sunday ; the evidences of the encounter with Rosser 
were apparent. Along the roadside were the dead bodies of 
Confederates. Beyond these bodies, with a wood intervening, 
and so far as to have evidently been out of the reach of even 
stray shots, lay the body of a boy not fourteen years old. The 
soldiers paused, awestruck. The story went that some of Meade's 
cavalry escort had suddenly come upon him armed with a shot- 
gun. There was a demand for surrender, a hesitation to com- 
ply, then a single shot, resulting in instant death. The hesitancy 
evidently was from shock and embarrassment, and from no dis- 
position to resist. The affair drew forth severe censure from 
General Meade, and it was only because the soldier who fired 
was able to show a demand for surrender and a seeming refusal 
that he escaped punishment. 

It was evident that we were closely pressing the enemy's rear 
guard and every moment expecting a sudden attack on the head 
of our column. Colonel Chamberlain, in advance of the column 
with a few scouts and skirmishers, was anxiously examining 
every point of advantage from which the enemy might turn upon 
us, and was holding the brigade well in hand for anything that 
might happen. Suddenly the expected signal came. A rifled 
cannon shot came whizzing over our heads — we saw the white 
puff of smoke from a wooded crest — killing one man in the reg- 
iment. The division was halted ; consulting a moment with Gen- 
eral Griffin, Chamberlain conceived a movement to capture the 
battery by taking advantage of the piece of woods which had 
masked them. Moving the brigade into the field to the right, 
he formed it in echelon and rapidly advanced, evidently 
unseen by the enemy. The orders were for the first men 
who should strike the battery not to mind so much to kill the 
men-, but to shoot the horses, especially the wheel-horses, so that 
in the tangle the enemy could not get their guns away, if they 
did themselves : we were only foiled in a complete and brilliant 



— 437 — 

success by a natural obstacle which delayed us, and thus drew 
the enemy's attention. Nearly up to the woods on the flank of 
the battery we came to a stream, not very wide, but looking deep 
and muddy, and the men hesitated to ford it. It was a critical 
moment. Chamberlain, impatient at the delay, urged the men 
over. A lucky thought hit him. There was a heavy plank fence 
along one portion of the stream. "Take the fence along with you, 
my men ; throw it in, and yourselves after it ! " It was done with 
a will : one jump to mid-stream, with the planks for a pontoon, 
and we were over. But the confusion had attracted the enemy's 
attention. They whirled their battery about, and gave us can- 
ister, inflicting quite a loss on us. We pushed all the quicker 
for the canister, but the enemy managed to get away with their 
guns. We felt not a little chagrined at the loss of the splendid 
prize which we had so well planned and struggled to win. But 
the road was effectually cleared, and the corps was soon on its 
onward way. When the 1 1 8th Pennsylvania and 20th Maine 
had covered their own front, they were flanked to the left and 
moved forward in line of battle, preceded by skirmishers hur- 
riedly detached from " E," of the 11 8th, and assigned to the 
command of Captain Walters. " E " at that time was without 
a commissioned officer, and Walters, apt and ready in such af- 
fairs, was taken from his own company and placed in charge. 
Everything had transpired so quickly that the skirmishers had 
not yet had opportunity to secure a respectable distance in ad- 
vance. Walters was in front of them, when suddenly he came 
upon a Confederate officer mounted upon a gray horse, leaning 
forward with his hand up to his ear, his whole attitude indicating 
that he was straining every faculty to ascertain what he could of 
the whereabouts of his enemy. His faculties were evidently 
blunted or his thoughts astray, for he had as yet neither seen 
Walters nor heard the tramp of the advancing troops. Walters 
at once determined to cautiously circle around the major until 
he had placed himself so far in his rear as to have the major 
between himself and the skirmishers, and then insist that the 
major unhorse himself and acknowledge himself a prisoner. 



- 438 - 

Colonel Chamberlain, who was also in advance of the line, had 
caught sight of the operation and at once conjectured Walters's 
purpose. He dare not speak a word to halt the line or caution 
quiet. But as he raised his hand and turned toward the troops 
his countenance and his gesture seemed to communicate what 
he desired, and a sudden stillness followed. Walters had seen 
nothing of this, but the quiet so startled him that every twig 
and bough he was treading upon so cautiously snapped with 
sounds, to him at least, like the breaking of great branches be- 
fore the whistling winds. And yet there the major still sat 
immovable until Walters had entirely encircled him, and stood 
with a pistol in his right hand and with his left grasping the 
bridle-rein, demanding an immediate and unconditional sur- 
render. 

" Not so, sir," said the major, about to seize a carbine slung 
at his side ; " you are my prisoner." 

" Touch that and you die," said Walters. Walters's manner 
was a sufficient indication of resolute purpose, and his pistol 
was levelled with deadly aim. The major slowly slid out of 
the saddle. He was evidently a courageous man, but he was 
so startled and overcome at this unexpected termination of his 
observations that his face turned to an ashy whiteness ; so re- 
markable was its absolutely colorless hue that, as he afterwards 
passed through the lines to the rear, it was the subject of much 
comment. He delivered his carbine without question, but to 
the " now for the sword, sir," he drew it angrily from the scab- 
bard and, plunging it desperately into the ground, broke it off 
at the very hilt. The skirmishers had now come up and Wal- 
ters turned over horse and rider to be conducted to the rear. 
The major was rather a tasty fellow, and an inspection of his 
saddle disclosed a bran new uniform coat, evidently intended 
to be worn on distinguished official or high social occasions. 

The battery which had so injudiciously exposed itself man- 
aged to limber up and escape entirely. Not before, however, 
it had with a discharge of grape and canister inflicted a loss of 
one man killed and several wounded. 



— 439 — 

This section had never been visited by an invading army in 
any force. Fence rails were in abundance and supplied the 
fuel for the night's meal. The parties out after wood and 
water fell upon a lot of sheep grazing. A carcass or two con- 
tributed to a very acceptable temporary change of diet. 

The country was so thrifty that instructions were issued re- 
viving the almost forgotten orders against foraging. The sol- 
diers were not in sympathy with the measure ; officers gave it 
but a half-hearted support. The obedient restrained them- 
selves ; others, not so disposed, took about what was fair. 




FORAGING. 



From his place on the flank of the column Major O'Neill's 
attention was attracted by the violent hissing of a goose. 
Turning in the direction of the sound he discovered that Paddy 
Mulchay, of " G," had seized a straggler from a flock unable 
to keep up with his fellows, making haste for the shelter of 
a neighboring barn-yard. "Mark time, Paddy ; mark time," 
shouted the major, his favorite phrase when he desired to be 
severely impressive ; " don't you know the orders ? " 

" Shure, sur," says Paddy, " the only orders I know is not 
to lave anything behind me, and ain't I obeying them, sur?" 



— 44° — 

" Well, if it's a prisoner you mean you'll not leave behind 
you, you may turn him over to me. Here, Kit Carson," ad- 
dressing his servant, "put the dirty rebel in the guard-house," 
and with the solace of a pinch of snuff from his silver box, and 
the complacent reflection that a well-fed goose would grace his 
table at the first opportunity to prepare a meal, the major 
pressed Paddy no further upon his failure to be exact in the 
recollection of his orders. 

Mulchay had some strange characteristics : among them was 
an indisposition to go into action with his own regiment. He 
was frequently found fighting zealously with others in the brig- 
ade, throughout which his oddities had brought him into gen- 
eral acquaintance. He was a courageous fellow, and, when 
arraigned for his delinquencies, was always able to secure such 
excellent reports of his conduct as to relieve him from the 
punishment which would have otherwise followed. 

On the 24th the army was in readiness to move at five o'clock 
in the morning. The cavalry detachments serving with each 
corps were sent out on all the roads leading southward to as- 
certain if the enemy had crossed the North Anna. If he had, 
the purpose was to follow him. Hancock moved to Chester- 
field Ford, near the Fredericksburg and Richmond Railroad 
Bridge ; Burnside to Jericho Bridge, and Warren to Jericho 
Mills. Wright followed Warren. Jericho Mills is four miles 
west of Jericho Bridge. 

Ewell and Longstreet had arrived at Hanover Junction, some 
nineteen miles distant from our advance, the night of the 22d, 
and on the 23d Hill was pressing to join them. 

Warren arrived at Mount Carmel Church at 11 a. m., and 
from that point moved to Jericho Mills, on the North Anna, 
about three miles distant, Rosser keeping in his front to the 
vicinity of the river. 

Bartlett's brigade waded the river, encountering a few of the 
enemy's pickets on the opposite bank, and secured a lodgement 
to cover the laying of the pontoons. The banks of the stream 
were high and precipitous and the road rough, consisting of a 
series of rocky steps. 



— 441 — 

The line advanced sufficiently to permit deployments of the 
troops to follow, and pickets were thrown out to the edge of a 
wood some distance beyond the bank. A feeling of fancied 
security had prompted all the " dog- robbers," " pot- wrestlers " 




NORTH ANNA. 



and " coffee-coolers " to keep well closed up with the column. 
This vast array of essentials, bearing designations so pertinent 
to their calling, so useful and necessary in the domestic econo- 
mies of army life, with due consideration for personal safety, 
with weighty convictions that their loss would be irreparable, 



— 442 — 

never ventured upon the hither bank of a stream until fur- 
nished with the most reliable assurance that the enemy had 
vanished from the vicinity beyond all range possible for an en- 
counter. 

It was a sense of fancied security that prompted these foraging 
spoilsmen, ready for booty when no dangers attended its ac- 
quisition, to scatter in every direction to seize the rich yields 
the prolific indications of the neighborhood promised. Many 
in the ranks were sensibly affected by the opportunities, and 
imitated their example. Among them, Smith, of " K," to main- 
tain his reputation as a successful forager, passing his musket 
to the custody of Nugent, followed. Observing a party who 
had nearly completed the butchering of a well-fattened hog, 
Smith, hoping to reap a share of the spoil, knowing the mortal 
terror which the announcement of the immediate presence of 
the enemy would likely arouse, cried loudly, " There comes 
the rebs." " Rebs be d — d," was the reply. For the moment 
the attempted deception was apparently a failure, when suddenly 
from the woods the enemy's batteries opened with a simulta- 
neous crash, and musketry flashed on front and flank. Con- 
fusion immediately followed, panic seized the " pot-wrestlers," 
and they imparted it to the pack mules. Cooks, servants and 
mules, pots, kettles and pans, yelling discordantly, rattling in- 
harmoniously, broke for the river by whatever route was 
nearest, no matter how impracticable. 

Ned Wolfenden, of " K," in charge of an officer's horse, had 
ensconced himself at the base of a bald-faced, rocky bluff, straight 
as a wall, six or eight feet high, safe certainly from danger of 
every sort. Suddenly over the top leaped a man, followed by 
a rope, at which he tugged violently. Then appeared the head 
and ears of a mule, and then his great pack heaved into sight. 
Wolfenden waited no longer. He preferred to take the ordi- 
nary risks of battle rather than to be thus ignominiously crushed 
under the weighty load that seemed certain to demolish him. 

Smith was neither discomfited nor confused. The pork was 
of course abandoned by the " pot-wrestlers." Seizing a quarter 



— 443 — 

of the derelict pig, he bore it back with him to the ranks, and 
with pig in one hand and musket in the other advanced to the 
charge with the regiment. He never lost his load, notwith- 
standing his subsequent puncturing, and, with his messmates, 
hugely enjoyed the spoil when, with darkness, hostilities were 
suspended and an opportunity came for cooking. 

The attack, which was by A. P. Hill's corps, made about six 
o'clock, had fallen heaviest upon Cutler's division, while it was 
still going into position after crossing the river. His troops 
broke and were followed by the enemy, who were promptly 
driven back by our artillery. The assault covered the whole 




CHECKING THE ENEMY'S ADVANCE. 



of Warren's right and centre. Along Griffin's front, the centre, 
the attack was handsomely repulsed and the enemy driven to 
his works on the Virginia Central Railroad. In this assault 
the 83d Pennsylvania, Colonel McCoy, famous for its heroic re- 
sistance on Little Round Top, played a most effective part. 
Colonel Spear, of the 20th Maine, of late so prominent in the 
night affair at Laurel Hill, was wounded. The fight lasted 
some two hours. The sounds of the musketry, the noise of 
the violent cannonading, bursting suddenly upon the compara- 
tive quiet of the few days previous, denoted a struggle of some 
magnitude. Ayres's brigade, with Bartlett's in support, bore 



— 444 — 

much of the brunt of the action. The loss to the regiment 
was in wounded only. 

Lee had set great store by this movement of Hill. Warren 
was in a most hazardous position. He was alone upon that side 
of the river. Night was at hand and the 6th, the only corps 
within supporting distance, with the river to impede its pro- 
gress, would have been necessarily much delayed in reaching 
him. The next day the Army of the Potomac was so placed 
that to strengthen any threatened point it was necessary to 
cross the river twice. Thus a still more tempting opportunity 
was again afforded Lee. It had been his intention to do some 
determined work in this vicinity. Warren's successful resist- 
ance may have inspired a spirit of caution that restrained him. 

In advancing under the heavy shelling the regiment came 
suddenly upon the 44th New York, lying down, so covered by 
leaves and underbrush as to be entirely out of sight. The 1 18th 
lay down immediately in its rear. The two commands were so 
placed with a view to a counter-charge. The instructions were 
that if the attack was pressed in that direction, the 44th New 
York should rise, deliver a volley and then lie down. This 
was to indicate that it was the I iSth's turn to deliver their fire, 
after which, with fixed bayonets, they were to charge over the 
other regiment. The enemy's attack was not forced in this 
vicinity with sufficient vigor to cause the execution of these 
instructions. 

The regiment halted just before dark, within range of the 
enemy's fortifications, on the Virginia Central Railway, and 
threw up a temporary line of works. The sharpshooters now 
began active operations. To raise a head above the works in- 
volved a great personal risk, and as nothing was to be gained 
by exposure, most of the men wisely took advantage of their 
cover. Poor Ed. Rien, of " G," better known as " down the 
river," imprudently exposed himself, and fell seriously wounded. 
This roused the ire of Smith, of " K," who, rising to his feet, 
insisted that he would " fetch " the fellow that fired, as soon as 
he got a good shot at him. " Sit down, Smith, sit down," 



— 445 — 

cried Sergeant Nugent, " the fellow's range is longer than yours 
and he will pin you first, sure." Just then a puff of smoke in- 
dicated precisely the man's position, and still disregarding the 
caution to cover himself, Smith rose to fire, but a ball penetrated 
his arm, passing under the skin entirely across his back. Roll- 
ing over, with a painful but not a disabling wound, he con- 
cluded to accept, for the present at least, the protection afforded 
by the earthworks. The two Kesslers, of " K," now undertook 
to wreak the vengeance Smith had intended. One raised a cap 
on a ramrod. The decoy worked admirably; the sharpshooter 
fired, so did the other Kessler. The cap stayed up, but the 
sharpshooter came down, and with his fall all annoyance from 
that quarter ceased. 

The inhabitants in this locality had not abandoned their 
houses, but remained during the action. At the Matthews' 
House the meals were still prepared and served with the usual 
regularity, and the officers of the head-quarters established 
there experienced the novel sensation of a summons to the 
supper table by the ringing of a bell. All the table furniture 
and appointments were the family's, and the food supplied was 
from their own stores. The young lady who played the part 
of hostess was not very gracious, but she had good reason to 
be somewhat incensed at the conduct of her guests. The 
enemy had posted a number of sharpshooters in the house, and 
in a charge made to dislodge them one of them, a very pre- 
possessing young man, had been killed and his body still lay 
upon the porch. 

Hancock, with Eagan's and Pierce's brigades of Birney's di- 
vision, carried the bridge head at the Telegraph Road, and on 
the 24th, the enemy having abandoned his works on the south 
bank of the river, crossed with his whole corps. The enemy 
had, however, taken up a strongly entrenched line beyond, 
having slashings and abatis. The 2d Corps advanced and en- 
trenched within six or eight hundred yards of this line. The 
corps several times became briskly engaged, but all efforts to 
force the line were failures, and the design was abandoned. 



— 446 — 

Burnside was ordered to carry Ox's Ford and cross with his 
corps, but found the enemy too strongly entrenched on the 
south bank. Crittenden's division crossed at Quarles Mill, a 
mile and a half above, and joined Crawford. 

The 6th Corps followed Warren at Jericho Mills, and, with 
the 5th, advanced to within six hundred yards of the enemy's 
entrenched position, which Crawford had already developed. 

On the 25th a considerable portion of the Virginia Central 
Railroad, at Noel's Station, was destroyed. That part of the 
work allotted to the brigade was performed by the 118th and 
the 1 8th Massachusetts, both regiments being under the com- 
mand of Colonel Herring. The destruction was pretty effect- 
ually done. The ties were heaped together and the rails placed 
on top of them. The piles were then fired and the heat twisted 
the rails into shapes wholly useless for immediate relaying. 

Two days' rations issued during the day supplied a much 
needed want, and with a good rest, a thing at that time so 
rarely accorded, the troops felt decidedly better satisfied with 
themselves and the situation. 

The hammering process was still ineffectual ; there must be 
more of it somewhere else. Something, though, had been ac- 
complished by attrition. Again responding to " By the left 
flank," the army hurried off to " catch on " early at a better 
place. 

In covering the railway during its destruction the advance 
had pushed well up to the " Little River." There had been 
considerable skirmishing to reach the position attained on An- 
derson plantation with the river in front of it, and two men of 
the regiment were wounded. Rain fell at times in torrents. 

Leaving the 18th Massachusetts on picket at seven o'clock 
in the evening of the 26th, moving by the left, with the 1 1 8th 
leading, the march was resumed back towards the North Anna. 
Two hours later the column crossed at Quarles Mill. The 
night was intensely dark, and the withdrawal of the entire 
army, which was completed by the morning of the 27th, had 
apparently been effected without the knowledge of the enemy. 



— 447 — 

The route of the 5th Corps was some distance to the east- 
ward of that followed by the rest of the army. About mid- 
night the brigade halted to draw rations, and, resuming the 
march, stopped again in the morning for coffee. It was heavy 
work all day, with the weather clear and warm. By the route 
travelled some thirty miles were covered between the Little 
River and the Mongohick Church, where a bivouac, with the 
regiment in column of division, was made on the night of the 
27th. 

The entire route was through a luxuriant region in a high 
state of cultivation. The open, broad acres of great planta- 
tions rolled off in all directions. There were roomy mansions, 
pillared and porticoed after the peculiar Southern fashion, the 
comfortable, luxurious homes of lordly owners, the real aristo- 
crats of the choicest blood of Virginia's boasted chivalry. 
Chief among all these, with lordlier appointments and of greater 
size and grandeur than the rest, was the residence of that famous 
Southern statesman, ex-Secretary John B. Floyd, whose mar- 
velous conception of duty prompted him during the Buchanan 
administration to use his official power in the Cabinet of the 
nation to place the military stores and property of the govern- 
ment in the custody of those who contemplated its destruction. 
The early summer fruits, ripening in luscious profusion, grew 
in the grounds about the manor house, and here and elsewhere 
through the march fruit and vegetable, flesh and fowl, paid 
handsome tribute to the Yankee hosts, who were now the 
lordly masters of the soil. These tempting, toothsome oppor- 
tunities to feed upon the rich and bountiful production of farm, 
garden and dairy, with the toilsome, lengthy march and the 
oppressive heat, induced unwarranted straggling, and it was 
late evening before all the stragglers had found their bivouac 
home. 

The 28th was a bright morning, with the promise of a tem- 
perature above the range of comfort. At four o'clock the 
regiment was again on the march as the rear of the brigade, 
the brigade leading the division. The Mongohick Church, at 



— 44« — 

which was General Grant's head-quarters, was passed in the 
very early morning, and subsequently the little town of En- 
field. Before midday the Pamunkey was crossed on pontoon 
bridge at Hanover Town, and the 5th Corps' lines established 
some two miles in front of the town with their right on the 
road to Richmond and their left near the Tolopotomy, where 
it is crossed by the road from Hawes's Shop to Old Church. 

Shortly after noon of the 28th the 6th Corps had also crossed 
the Pamunkey at Huntley's Corners, four miles above Hanover 
Town, and was in position across the Hanover Court-House 
or River Road at Crump's Creek. The 2d Corps followed the 
6th closely, forming on its left and completing the cover of the 
road from Crump's Creek to Hawes's Shop. The 9th Corps, 
that had followed the 5th, was not over until midnight. The 6th 
was now the right corps, the 5th the left and the 2d the centre. 
They were all not more than twelve miles northeast of Rich- 
mond. 

The army was again in the far-famed Peninsula. Mechanics- 
ville, Gaines's Mill, the Chickahominy, Fair Oaks and Seven 
Pines, already familiar as the scene of famous fights, were 
close at hand and might be called upon again to lend their 
names to the battle vocabulary of the nation. 

The birthplace of Henry Clay, " the mill-boy of the slashes," 
was near, if not actually within, the enemy's lines. The lo- 
cality was suggestive of such a disassociation of the memories 
of his patriotism and the then condition of the country that it 
may forcibly have suggested to the thoughtful men in the ranks 
of the Confederacy of how far they were astray from the 
teachings of this most eminent of Southern statesmen, ever so 
faithful in a firm maintenance of the principle that the " more 
perfect union " of the constitution was indissoluble. 

Without the formality of direction, the troops fell to work 
heartily to entrench, and before dark the whole of the 5th 
Corps' front bristled with formidable earthworks. All day the 
sounds of battle raged but a short distance beyond the lines, 
so close that occasionally shells intended for the active com- 



— 449 — 

batants fell among the unoffending soldiers of Griffin's divi- 
sion. The cavalry — nearly the whole corps were participants 
— were having a serious time of it at Hawes's Shop. The 
conflict was long and hard until nightfall, when Custer's brig- 
ade and Gregg's division carried the entrenchments and drove 
the enemy back. 

On the 29th, at 6.30 a. m., with a heavy skirmish line in front, 
Griffin's division moved out of the breastworks in the direction 
of Mechanicsville. The advance continued slowly all day, 
several times forming line and again breaking into column. 
The enemy's outposts were occasionally encountered, but re- 
tired before the skirmishers. -At four o'clock the line crossed 
the Tolopotomy and moved along the shady Grove Church 
road where, the enemy being in force, Cutler's division was 
moved over to Griffin. At seven o'clock the division halted 
and bivouacked for the night with the 2d Brigade on the left. 

These manoeuvres were in conformity with directions to the 
commanders of the 2d, 5th and 6th Corps to make reconnois- 
sance in their fronts, supported by their whole force. General 
Wright moved to Hanover Court-House, but encountered no 
enemy except small parties of cavalry vedettes. General Han- 
cock, moving on roads from Hawes's Shop to Atlee's Station, 
met only the enemy's vedettes, until he arrived at the crossing 
of the Tolopotomy, by the Richmond road, where the enemy 
was found in force entrenched on the other side, and a brisk 
skirmish ensued. General Burnside was held in reserve near 
Hawes's Shop. 

While we were attempting to secure the roads beyond the Pa- 
munkey on which to advance towards Richmond, Lee was en- 
deavoring to cover them. Lee was away from Hanover Junc- 
tion in time to successfully accomplish this by the afternoon 
of the 28th. Ewell's right rested near Beaver Dam Creek, 
which empties into the Chickahominy near Mechanicsville, his 
left on the Tolopotomy, near Pole Green Church, about four 
miles from Hawes's Shop. Longstreet, on Ewell's right, be- 
tween Huntley's and Walnut Grove Church, covered the road 
26 



— 450 — 

from White House by Old Church, Bethesda Church and Me- 
chanicsville to Richmond. Hill formed along the Tolopotomy, 
extending from Early's left to the vicinity of Atlee's Station, 
crossing the railroad a mile north of it. General Ewell was ill 
and General Longstreet wounded, and their corps respectively 
were commanded by Generals Early and Anderson. 

As Warren was operating on the roads to Bethesda Church, 
Old Church and Mechanicsville, the troops which he might 
have expected to encounter were those of Longstreet's corps, 
but the subsequent shifting of Early's troops brought Warren 
more severely in contact with the latter. 

The 30th was another clear day. It was about the beginning 
of that period of continued heat and lengthy drought which, 
with but a rare interruption, did not terminate until the sum- 
mer began to wane. Griffin's division, with Sweitzer's brigade 
in advance, again led the corps out the Shady Grove Church 
Road. All day the skirmishing was heavy, especially on the 
Old Church Road and Mechanicsville Pike, three-quarters of a 
mile to the south of the Shady Grove Church Road. The 22d 
Massachusetts was the skirmish detail for the entire division, 
with Colonel Tilton in command. This regiment of Sweitzer's 
brigade will be remembered as the one which has been fre- 
quently referred to. It had formerly belonged to Barnes's 
brigade, and was at that time in almost daily contact with the 
1 1 8th. With seven hours of hard skirmish fighting it accom- 
plished a work that brought it much commendation, and gave 
rise to the expression that Griffin's division if not hindered 
would make its way into Richmond alone. The enemy were 
driven some three miles, and at dark the line halted with its 
left somewhere in the vicinity of Bethesda Church, and threw 
up entrenchments. During the afternoon developments from 
that direction showed the enemy throwing himself across War- 
ren's left. A brigade from Crawford's division sent to check his 
advance was repulsed. A battery, posted where a cross road 
from Bethesda Church enters the Shady Grove Church Road, 
effectively checked the advance of Rodes's division of Early's 



— 45i — 

corps, until Crawford's other brigades and Cutler's division 
came up, when Rodes in turn was forced to retire. 

The enemy's attack was resolute and they suffered se- 
verely. By ten o'clock they had retired from the field, mov- 
ing back on the pike, abandoning some of their dead and 
wounded. 

The movements of the day had extended the 5th Corps lines 
farther to the left. Burnside, with sharp skirmishing, had 
crossed the Tolopotomy and was now on the right of Warren, 
connecting him with Hancock. The 6th Corps was still the 
right of the army. General Wright had endeavored to place 
his corps on the enemy's left flank, but a swamp and tangle of 
the worst character at the head of Crump's Creek delayed the 
movement until it was too late to effect anything. 

Sharp firing went on somewhere along the lines all night. 
What little opportunity there was for rest was, as had been 
frequently the case of late, disturbed by the issue of rations. 
This was not completed until two o'clock in the morning ; was 
ordered to cover three days and to include the 4th of June. It 
was an ominous outlook. Hard fighting was evidently antici- 
pated for some days to come, and the situation was likely 
to be too warm for the exposure of the impedimenta. 

On the 31st, about eight in the morning, the brigade was 
moved about a half mile to the left and lay fairly quiet for the 
rest of the day. The skirmish lines were kept actively engaged 
and all the infantry corps were pressed as close as practicable 
without assaulting. The position all along the front was strong 
naturally and the attack was abandoned. 

Cold Harbor was an all-important point. It was on a line 
with the extension of our movement to the left, and a point of 
concentration for many roads, the control of which would ma- 
terially facilitate intended operations. The cavalry, under in- 
structions to hold it at all hazards, were having a hot struggle, 
when, on the night of the 31st, General Wright was detached 
from the right and reached there at noon on the 1st of June. 
General W. F. Smith's 18th Corps, from the Army of the 



— 452 — 

James, landing in transports at White House, arrived about the 
same time. A desperate battle followed. Hancock, on the 
1st, moved to reinforce Wright's left, and the ever-memorable 
struggle at Cold Harbor, to continue for twelve days in battle, 
blood, siege and skirmish, opened as inauspiciously as it termi- 
nated resultlessly. 

Wright and Hancock had both gone and Burnside was now 
the extreme right of the army, with Warren next to him. 

On the 1st of June the brigade was moved forward and a 
new line of works thrown up under fire. Rotten pines, the 
only timber available, made the revetment rather insecure. Be- 
fore their completion an attack in force was repulsed. Among 
the wounded were Corporals Lincoln and Rodermel, of " E." 
A whiskey ration was issued. 

In front of the 1st Michigan a skirmisher was seen to hur- 
riedly run in, mount the breastworks, and, unable to check 
himself, roll over in a heap. As he rose it was noticed that his 
nose had been completely shot away. Unfortunate as it was 
for the poor fellow to be so painfully wounded and horribly 
disfigured, the laugh was irresistible. During the day heavy 
cannonading was kept up on the left, and sharp fighting in the 
same direction continued throughout the night. 

On the morning of the 2d Warren was ordered to extend his 
left to connect with the 1 8th Corps at Woody 's, the right of 
which corps crossed the Bethesda Church Road at that point, 
near Beulah Church; at the same time he was to contract his 
right to such an extent as to make one-half his force available 
for attack. This it was expected would bring his right in the 
vicinity of Bethesda Church and give him a line about three 
miles long. Interrupted here and there by the swamps of the 
Matadequin it was virtually shortened, as he would command 
the swamps without occupying them. General Burnside was 
directed to withdraw and mass his force to the rear of Warren's 
right to protect that flank and support the corps. 

The withdrawal of troops from our right had attracted Lee's 
attention, and on the morning of the 2d he had directed Early 



— 453 — 

to get on our right flank and drive it down the front of the 
Confederate line. To carry out this order Rodes's division 
moved out the Shady Grove Church Road, Gordon moving 




BETHESDA CHURCH. 



round to keep pace with Rodes, and Heth following Rodes 
took position on his left. Burnside's withdrawal was still un- 
finished, his skirmish line still occupying the corps entrench- 



— 454 — 



merits. The movement brought on sharp fighting which 
lasted until after dark, but failed to accomplish the full purpose 
designed. 

The skirmishers from Bartlett's brigade held the extreme 
right of the 5th Corps. On their right were the skirmishers 
of the 9th Corps, with whom they were supposed to unite. 
Between them, however, and the left of that corps skirmish line 

was a deep, thickly wooded 
ravine, which effectually con- 
cealed the two bodies from 
each other, but their line 
was there when Bartlett's 
line was established. The 
5th Corps pickets were per- 
emptorily instructed upon 
no consideration to change 
their front. Anticipating an 
attack from the direction in 
w h i c h they faced when 
posted, they were to devote 
their attention exclusively 
to that direction. Having 
never seen Burnside's picket 
line, and not having been 
informed of its withdrawal, 
they were wholly unac- 
quainted with the fact that it had been withdrawn. 

Major O'Neill was the officer in charge of the brigade skir- 
mish line, and of his detail were 160 men from the 1 1 8th, com- 
manded by Captain Henry K. Kelly, under whom were Lieu- 
tenants Crossley, Connor and Seesholtz. Lieutenant Crossley 
was assigned to the right, Seesholtz the centre, and Connor 
the left, Captain Kelly assuming general charge of the 
whole. 

The line was posted about eleven o'clock in the morning, 
occupying pits built to accommodate three men each. Soon 




CAPTAIN ISAAC H. SEESHOLTZ. 



- 455 - 

afterwards the enemy opened fire, and the two lines were en- 
gaged in a desultory way until about three o'clock in the after- 
noon, when the firing was interrupted by a severe thunder- 
storm. The three men in the pit in which George W. Lenoir 
was posted repeatedly fired at a general officer on a white 
horse, who, with his staff, was seen frequently riding up and 
down the Confederate lines. While it rained the men huddled 
together closely in the pits seated on their knapsacks, impro- 
vising such shelter as their gum blankets afforded, still keeping 
an eye sharply to the front. Just as the shower ceased an of- 
ficer passed along the line with the information that the enemy 
were about to attack, and that our line must be held at all haz- 
ards. The attack followed, but from a direction evidently not 
contemplated. 

Meanwhile Rodes was working on Burnside's skirmishers, 
who had fallen back to the works his main line had abandoned. 
Lieutenant Crossley, on the extreme right, seems to have been 
first apprised of the approach of the enemy from a quarter 
where he was least looked for. The meal to which Crossley 
was entitled at noon was late arriving, and, as he sat disposing 
of it, his attention was attracted by a shot on his right flank, 
followed quickly by another and then another. He promptly 
despatched a messenger to Major O'Neill to advise him of the 
situation and ask for instructions. The major, who was as 
little affected by musketry on the flanks as he was from the 
front, returned the very characteristic reply, " Tell Leftenant 
Crossley to remain at his post and do his'juty.'" Captain 
Kelly was then appealed to, the position of the enemy being 
meantime revealed by his fire and by his appearing in sight. 
Seeking the major, hurriedly, Kelly personally urged him either 
to assume the responsibility of changing the front, or permit 
him or some one else to go to the rear and procure reinforce- 
ments to cover the exposed flanks. Neither suggestion suited 
the major ; he would have none of it : " Mark time you, there, 
Kelly, right where you are, and I'll go for the reinforcements," 
and away he went rapidly towards the rear, laughingly ex- 



-456- 

claiming as he reached the regiment : " If I don't hurry back 
with some of yez to help the whole of them out there beyond, 
Kelly and all of them will be gobbled by the rebels." But 
long before O'Neill returned, the capture of the greater part of 
his line had been effected. The sweep was so sudden and in 
such force there was but little resistance. The enemy went 
with rapid strides from post to post. To the " drop your guns " 
were many unwilling affirmative responses, until eighty-six en- 
listed men were made prisoners. With the two officers, Captain 
Kelly and Lieutenant Crossley, also captured, and four enlisted 
men wounded, the total loss to the regiment in this affair in 
wounded and missing was ninety-two. Of the enlisted men 
who were taken at Bethesda Church there was an astonishing 
mortality during their captivity : but twenty-five ever rejoined 
the regiment ; the rest, sixty-eight, all died in rebel prisons, 
mostly at Andersonville. 

As the movement progressed towards the left the situation 
began to be comprehended, and that part of the skirmish line 
broke. Some of the men, after many varied experiences of 
fight and flight, saved themselves from captivity. 

Lenoir, who had, with his comrades in one of the pits, been 
firing at the Confederate general officer, was fortunate in es- 
caping capture. He had fallen back about a hundred yards, 
when, turning to see whether he was pursued, he was surprised 
to find at a short distance an advancing line of battle. The Con- 
federates were moving in splendid order, carrying their muskets 
at a right shoulder. He soon met a number of the members 
of the regiment, who had assembled behind a line of works. 
A vain appeal was made to some men of another command to 
make a stand. Just then a regiment made a splendid charge 
on the right, but after firing a volley fell back. As it appeared 
that every one else had left the locality, the remnant of the 
1 1 8th picket detail decided to have a little fight of their own. 
Advancing to a little clump of brush, they opened a lively fire 
on a pine thicket in front. It stirred up a response from a force 
far in excess of the little band of soldiers engaging them. 



— 457 — 

Having fired ten or twelve rounds, they were discreetly about 
to rapidly retire, when Coonan, of " G," raised his piece to fire 
at a man not thirty feet from him who had pushed ahead of his 
line, when one of our men knocked Coonan's piece up, ex- 
claiming, " Hold on there, Cooney, don't shoot: why that's one 
of our men," and turning to the man who was in our uniform, 
said, "Aint that you, Jack ? " The answer came back promptly, 
" Yes." Coonan immediately dropped his piece, but the man 
had no sooner been uncovered than he fired, the ball hitting 
Coonan in the back of the neck and making a regular furrow. 
Thirty-two holes were afterwards counted in the blanket rolled 
on the top of his knapsack. The Confederate, for such he was, 
disguised in Yankee uniform, then started back on a full run ; 
three or four shots followed him in quick succession, one of 
which evidently struck him in the leg, as afterwards as long as 
he was seen he limped perceptibly, assisting himself with his 
musket. 

The fight now seemed to grow warm in every direction. 
The little affair the 1 1 8th men had organized in their own be- 
half had assumed proportions they had not calculated upon. 
They were really in front of the fighting line, and a big battle 
was in progress. The timber was thick, and the trees large ; 
shots flew through it like a whirlwind, shells thundered through 
the branches. Dodging from tree to tree and happening to hit 
the right direction, Lenoir and most of them with him ulti- 
mately reached the regiment in safety. 

Thrilling incidents followed John L. Smith, as he sought 
his friends and a refuge. When the rush came, Smith had 
charge of the men on several picket posts. Observing an un- 
easiness he attempted to hold them, but they had caught the 
situation quicker than he and would not be stopped, nor was 
he long in gathering it in, either, and soon permitted himself to 
drift with them to the left and rear to avoid capture. 

Major O'Neill, who had returned, and Lieutenant Connor, 
getting in among the fugitives and coming across a breastwork > 
rallied them, and deployed and advanced again as skirmishers, 



— 458 — 

but the pressure increased, the line scattered, and Smith found 
himself alone. To his right some distance was a body of sol- 
diers fighting, and realizing probably the philosophy of Aris- 
totle " that man by himself will soon cry for help," Smith made 
off towards them. They were United States regulars of the 
5th Corps. His reception was most ungenerous. " To what 
regiment do you belong?" said some one. "The 11 8th Penn- 
sylvania," replied Smith. " Get out of here, get out of here," 
responded several voices ; " we want no volunteers among us." 
" Not I," said Smith, undiscouraged by the cool welcome, and 
he took his place in the ranks and began to load and fire as 
rapidly as the rest of them. 

Smith soon found he was not wholly without acquaintances. 
Looking to his right he noticed a man of Company A, of his 
own regiment, fighting away vigorously. In a few moments a 
shot struck this man in the thigh and he dropped to the ground. 
He was quite a young man, the shock overcame him and he 
fell to weeping. " Oh, carry me back, please carry me back," 
he cried out. The regulars were not altogether heartless, nor 
really as harsh as they appeared. " Shut up, young fellow, shut 
up: what are you bellowing about? " shouted one of them, a 
big, strong, brawny chap, and with that he picked up the 
youngster, threw him over his shoulder and ran with him to 
the rear and saved him from capture. 

The enemy now advanced, howling one of their terrific yells. 
The line of which Smith made a part fell back to a line of en- 
trenchments in the rear. As he clambered over the works a 
bullet scraped his nose, but he still held on. 

And then on the right soon appeared the column with their 
pieces at a right-shoulder, moving by fours. Our troops had 
now all left the works they had but a moment before occupied 
for better ones farther to the rear, but somehow or other 
Smith and a single regular still held on. The head of the ad- 
vancing column was not seventy yards off. Their blankets 
were rolled, horse-collar fashion, over their shoulder. Their 
gray suits and slouched hats satisfied Smith and his companion 



— 459 — 

of their identity, and they went to work putting shot after shot 
into them. "Give it to 'em, my boy; give it to 'em," cried 
the regular, and so he did, and so did the regular, both with 
commendable persistency. But from the right, some fifty 
yards, where Sweitzer's men lay, came a cry that astonished 
these two lively musketeers, battling away there alone against 
all these formidable hosts. " For God's sake, stop firing," 
yelled Sweitzer's men, " don't you see they are our own peo- 
ple ? " " Our own people be d — d ; look at their slouched hats 
and gray clothes ! Give them h — 1, and we'll clear 'em out of 
this," and Smith and the regular still pegged away. And then 
occurred one of those inexplicable situations in battle which 
always remain unexplained. The men who insisted that the 
advancing soldiers were not Confederates could not be con- 
vinced of their error until it was too late and the enemy were 
so close that those who were not captured were forced in con- 
fusion to the rear. 

Solid shot came plunging in from the right. Smith and his 
new-made but now fast friend separated. Smith happened to 
run in the right direction and soon found his command. It is 
to be hoped that his gallant companion was equally fortunate, 
for Smith never saw or heard of him afterwards. 

Rodes, who had cleared off everything that had interposed, 
now made a desperate charge along the whole line, but Ayres, 
Bartlett and Sweitzer were all in shape to receive him, and he 
was handsomely repulsed. 

In front of where the regiment lay was a boggy swamp. 
After quiet had settled over the battle-field and the complete 
darkness of night had set in, a human voice was heard coming 
apparently from the depths of the swamp, daring any one to 
come out and fight. The Confederate was most lavish in his 
profanity ; foul and frightful oaths accompanied his repeated 
challenges. He asserted that he was alone, would give any 
man a fair fight who would meet him, and could lick any 
d — d Yankee who would undertake the job. It was quite 
apparent that the taunt was intended to lure some spirited fel- 



— 460 — 

low to death or captivity. Eventually the ruse proved suc- 
cessful. A staff officer, skilled as a pugilist, against the earnest 
protests of those around him, dashed out to avenge the insults. 
The horse he rode was the white one Captain Walters had 
taken with the Confederate major a few days before. It was 
as expected ; he never returned and afterwards died in a rebel 
prison. His term of service at the time of his capture would 
have expired in one week. 

Among those of the picket detail, many of whom disap- 
peared, were a large number of " The Fairies " of Company K. 
Boys in years, light in weight, small in stature, their lithe 
forms, quick, active ways, smooth faces and ever-smiling coun- 
tenances contrasted with the strong, heavy forms of the bigger 
men around them and justified their companions, or at least 
they thought it did, in classing them with the ideal fairies they 
had read of in the days of their childhood. But the names 
by which they knew each other would not have secured them 
recognition in the Cinderella world. Red-headed Connelly was 
known as "Gun-Boat," little Lukens as "Chestnut Hill," 
William and Isaac Kessler as " Biller" and " Iker," and J. L. 
Smith as the " Forager." Many of the " Fairies," however, 
were fortunate in working their way back to the line held by 
the regiment. They had gathered together a number of 
abandoned muskets, secured an unusual supply of ammuni- 
tion, and posted themselves behind the breastworks for a re- 
vengeful resistance when the onslaught, which they felt was 
close at hand, should come. They were not long in waiting. 
Resting their pieces on the works, they managed to fire from 
each shoulder at a time. One of their number would give the 
command, " Fire by battery," and all would blaze away at 
once. They had a noisy time of it. How effectively their 
gunnery operated was never known. They earned, however, 
something by it in the shape of another sobriquet, and besides 
" The Fairies " they afterwards were frequently styled " The 
Jackass Battery." 

William Kessler was of indomitable will. The next day, in 



— 46 1 — 

strengthening the earthworks, he was seriously wounded and 
borne away on a stretcher. Deserting from the hospital, a few 
weeks afterwards, in front of Petersburg, he was again with the 
regiment. Not yet recovered, his wounds broke out afresh, 
and he was forced by the surgeon to return for treatment, 
when, shortly after the fall of Richmond, Sergeant Nugent, 
riding at the head of the trains (he was then ordnance sergeant 
of the division), came across a man limping along in much 
pain, bare-footed, with his shoes slung over his musket. The 
sergeant's soldier sympathies were aroused, and, riding up, he 
generously tendered his horse to help him along, when, much 
to his astonishment, he discovered he was his old comrade 
Kessler. Kessler finding the confinement irksome, had again 
deserted from the hospital. Determined to participate actively 
in the end of the struggle, he was slowly working his way to 
his regiment. This time, with the help his companions gave 
him, he worried it through and had the satisfaction to be with 
his colors at the final muster-out. 

The fight over, the enemy repulsed and night almost on, the 
front was without a picket line. No orders had yet been re- 
ceived to establish a general one, but anticipating their recep- 
tion and as an essential precaution, Colonel Herring determined 
to cover his own regiment. The officers had all been so se- 
verely taxed that a reliable sergeant was selected to command. 
The selection fell upon Nugent, of " K." Satisfied that the right 
would also look after its own front, he was instructed to con- 
nect with what he would be likely to find there and to let his 
left rest upon a swamp, which, on that portion of the regimental 
front, lay a little beyond it. As the enemy was still pounding 
away with his artillery, Nugent first deployed his line, and 
then, advancing it with a rush, secured a fair position. With 
the cessation of the firing the line was adjusted, taking advan- 
tage of such cover as the trees and stumps afforded. There 
was considerable noise on the other side during the night, but 
no firing. At the earliest dawn the enemy's pickets were ob- 
served constructing pits. They evidently had not discovered 



— 462 — 

the location of our line. The careless manner in which they 
exposed themselves offered a tempting opportunity to shoot. 
Seen through the morning fog which hung close to the ground 
they appeared of giant-like stature. The men on the left, pro- 
tected by timber, importuned Sergeant Nugent for permission 
to fire, but, with due regard for those who had only the stumps 
for cover, he wisely restrained them. Before the day ended 
Nugent's party had the satisfaction to witness a wholesale cap- 
ture and complete dislodgement of the line they were so 
anxious to engage. Had they disclosed themselves the move- 
ment which effected this might have been entirely frustrated. 

The 3d was another day selected for a tremendous battle. 
It was, indeed, tremendous, frightful in slaughter, great in 
splendid heroism, historic as a signal failure. From the 5th 
Corps, with its weak and lengthy lines, not much was expected. 
Still all along its front there was heavy firing and a brisk en- 
gagement. 

At ten o'clock a lull in the cannonading brought attention to 
the yet neglected picket lines, and instructions were received 
from superior head-quarters to rectify those already established, 
to conform them advantageously to the nature of the ground 
and to secure their proper connection. The execution of these 
instructions, so far as the regiment was concerned, was left to 
Captain Walters. He had been giving some attention to the 
front and had already reported an opportunity to capture a 
Confederate color in an exposed position near our left. He 
begged permission to take advantage of the opportunity. The 
attempt was likely to interfere with other arrangements in con- 
templation, and his request was denied. 

The land in front had been cleared and cultivated; the 
stumps still remained. On the enemy's left was an elevation. 
The ground then fell off gradually from his left to his right, 
until it reached the swamp which interposed between the 
lines. The general conformation of the ground was the same 
on one side as it was on the other. The enemy's pickets oc- 
cupied from the crest of the elevation down the slope to be- 



— 463 — 

yond the swamp, terminating in a clump of trees opposite our 
left. This clump of trees, among his other observations, Wal- 
ters had ascertained covered the enemy's extreme right post. 
Beyond there was nothing. Captain Walters saw no better 
ground to occupy for his pickets than that the enemy had 
chosen, and conceived the project of taking him in flank, cap- 
turing his posts and, by turning the pits already built to face 
the other way, utilize them for himself. It was a high soldierly 
conception, a daring undertaking, and needed skill and tact for 
its accomplishment. 

The swamp, if it would admit of a passage, would afford ex- 
cellent cover to conceal the operation. Selecting men tried, 
trusty and reliable, Captain Walters moved from inside the 
breastworks, crossed them and followed the skirts of the 
swamp until he had reached the point which he calculated to 
be nearest his objective. Still moving cautiously, he succeeded 
in passing by the clump of trees and gaining the rear of the 
enemy's extreme right post. Halting his detachment by a 
wave of the hand, he approached the post alone, and there 
found seated in the corner of a bunch of rails the picket, weary 
but not watchful, soundly sleeping, with his musket resting 
against his body. It was but the work of an instant to seize the 
piece, and a levelled pistol enforced the silence which Walters's 
muttered tones demanded. Disarmed, astonished, bewildered, 
after a little hesitancy, quickly removed by a still more de- 
termined and closer levelling of the pistol, the yawning Con- 
federate yielded to the suppressed but insisting demand of 
Walters to be guided to the post nearest his left. Convinced 
that, if treacherous, his life would pay for it, the captive picket 
proceeded sullenly and silently in the direction of the adjoining 
post. The distance between the timber and the next post was 
short. Walters halted his detail in the clump of trees, and, 
moving stealthily with his captive, he was quickly in the rear 
of the post. It was the first of a series of pits. There were three 
men inside. One was gazing steadily to the front with rifle 
over the parapet pointed towards our line, the other two were 



— 464 — 

seated in easy posture, apparently engaged in interesting con- 
versation. Here, again, Walters approached with levelled 
pistol. Beckoning three of his men from the woods, he dis- 
armed the Confederates in the pit, hastened them singly to the 
woods as prisoners and replaced them with his own men. The 
other pits in sight were on something of an echelon forma- 
tion, the steps of the echelon rising toward our front. No 
guide was needed, and, as each pit was a little in advance of 
the other, Walters was enabled, with little chance of detection, 
to come upon each from the rear. He now had four prisoners, 
three of his own men were detached, seventeen were still avail- 
able. He had started with but twenty. The distance between 
the other pits was greater than that between the first two which 
had been captured. Several posts were now captured, one 
after another, each triplet of Confederates as they were cap- 
tured being substituted by three Union soldiers. Walters had 
now reached a point on the sloping line much higher than the 
ground was where he started, when all the other posts on the 
rise, apparently having caught the situation, abandoned their 
places and disappeared. Walters, encumbered with his prison- 
ers, managed with some difficulty to communicate with Colonel 
Throop, of the 1st Michigan, the nearest officer to him of higher 
rank. Reinforcements were sent him ; he was supplied with 
entrenching tools, ordered to face the pits in the proper direc- 
tion and hold the line until relieved. This he did under a 
sharp fire until the next morning, having also meanwhile safely 
secured all his prisoners and sent them to the rear. 

On the morning of the 4th Lieutenant Ware was sent out 
with the relief. Ware, recently promoted from a sergeantcy, 
with a courage known to be equal to emergencies, was rather 
anxious, beyond the range of prudence, for early distinction. 
Walters, who had established his head-quarters in the clump 
of trees, from which he had a full view of his whole line, cau- 
tioned Ware against unnecessary exposure, and suggested that 
he allow his men to crawl to their places. This Ware declined 
to do and personally conducted each relief to its post. Instead 



— 465 — 

of taking advantage of the clumps of trees, he moved his 
head-quarters to the right and there having the men on the 
post deliver him their pieces loaded, one after another, that he 
might not be delayed by stopping to load, he opened and kept 
■up a rapid fire. This, of course, soon drew attention, and ex- 
perienced marksmen began to reply. But Ware would not de- 
sist, and, falling severely wounded, a few days afterwards died. 

Captain Walters's feat secured him high commendation. He 
was personally congratulated, and his brevet commission as 
major mentions among other performances : " For gallant and 
■distinguished services at Bethesda Church." 

On the 4th, until noon, the regiment still occupied the same 
position, when it was relieved by the 2d Pennsylvania Heavy 
Artillery, but after a couple of hours this regiment was with- 
drawn and the 1 18th again returned to its former place. Heavy 
fighting was heard on the left ; the batteries were more or less 
■active ; picket firing continued through the night, and shortly 
after midnight orders were received to be in readiness at dawn 
to prevent a surprise. 

On the 5th, pursuant to instructions, the men were aroused 
at 3 a. m. After daylight the wagons were brought up and a 
whiskey ration and two days' supplies were issued. 

During the movements in the vicinity of the Tolopotomy 
and Bethesda Church the lines were often so close that every 
attempt to establish a picket line brought on a sharp contest, 
and each side thought the other the attacking party. 

A successfully conceived ruse, in which there was no mistake 
as to who was the attacking party, on one of these occasions, 
secured the enemy's entire line. Happily for the success of the 
affair, the character of the attack was wholly misapprehended. 
The enemy, probably without acquaintance with the real ad- 
vantage he had attained, had worked his picket line into such 
position that it must either be dislodged or the brigade seek 
another location. It was determined to dislodge it. The line 
was but about two hundred yards from our works and securely 
•entrenched with pits. The country between was open, and 
30 



— 466 — 

there was in fact no other place for our pickets than the ground 
the enemy occupied or beyond it. 

A company of the 22d Massachusetts was brought into 
requisition and posted immediately in the centre of the brigade. 
They were directed to radiate their fire from their Spencer 
magazine rifles towards the right and left, and by its incessant 
rapidity to so force the enemy to the cover of his pits that he 
would have no opportunity for observation. A deployed line was 
at the same time organized which, when the fire of the 22d had 
so driven the enemy to cover that the movement could be un- 
observed, was to move at a run to the right and left and cap- 
ture the posts at those points. The 22d were to cease firing in 
those directions when they observed the men so near their 
point of assault that it would be likely to injure them, and then 
concentrate on the centre. The scheme so happily conceived 
worked admirably. When the right and left parties were 
within some thirty yards of their destination the firing was 
directed towards the centre. Under the suddenness of the con- 
centration the deception worked so well that the rest of the 
distance was accomplished still without observation, and all 
the posts on the right and left were captured without the enemy 
firing a single shot or the loss of a man on either side. The 
party organized to operate on the centre under the same con- 
ditions was equally successful. The whole line was imme- 
diately occupied ; entrenching tools were speedily at hand and 
the pits as promptly turned. 

General Birney's division of the 2d Corps, that had been pre- 
viously sent to strengthen the 5th Corps' lengthened lines, on 
the 5th was returned to its own corps and extended its left to 
the Chickahominy. 

About ten o'clock on that night the brigade moved off finally 
from the vicinity of the Shady Grove Church Road, a locality 
it had learned to know so intimately, if not favorably. Major 
Spear, of the 20th Maine, was left in command of the division 
pickets, and Lieutenant Ashbrook of the regimental detail. 
There was sharp firing at times during the night. A friendly 



— 467 — 



fog aided the withdrawal of the pickets, which was successfully 
accomplished with the break of day. 

That the acquaintanceship with Bethesda Church might not 
be discourteously severed, the brigade halted there at 2.30 in 
the morning, as if for a short, informal leave-taking ; again re- 
suming the march at sunrise the column reached Allen's Mill, 
not far from the old Tavern at Cold Harbor. Here there was 
an all-day stop, intended 
to be, as it was, an interval 
of real, comforting rest. 
There was much gunnery 
and some musketry all 
along the entrenched lines. 
But once out of the fray 
the distant noise of a battle 
is a soft refrain. It is the 
hustle, screech and whir of 
closer relations that break 
the illusion. This was the 
5th Corps' " day off; " it 
had indeed earned a holi- 
day. 

Day had scarce dawned 
on the 7th when the col- 
umn was off again towards 
the left. A five-mile jour- 
ney brought its right to Sumner's lower bridge on the Chicka- 
hominy, opposite the old battle-ground of Gaines's Mill, with 
the left extended towards Dispatch Station on the Richmond 
and York River Railroad. The 5th Corps, with its right rest- 
ing on the 2d, was now the extreme left of the army. The 
enemy discovered the new development and enlivened the situ- 
ation during the night by exploding a few shells without 
damage. 

Ashbrook and Moore were mustered as first lieutenants and 
Young as captain. 




CAPTAIN AND BREVET-MAJOR JOSEPH 
ASHBROOK. 



— 468 — 
In the constant hard usage of the campaign the clothing was 




CHICKAHOMINY SWAMP. 



worn almost threadbare ; the shoes were through to the ground. 
Shirts, drawers and stockings, forlorn and dirty, were mostly 



— 469 — 

beyond washing, and if change was to be made at all, a new 
issue was essentially necessary. The presence of Quarter- 
master Gardner in the camp indicated an arrival of supplies, 
and with the appearance of his well-stocked wagons shortly 
afterwards the ragged, worn and dirty garments were discarded 
for the new, clean clothing at hand to replace them. 

The Chickahominy alone separating the combatants, the 
pickets soon began their accustomed familiarities. The 35th 
North Carolina vis-a-vis' d the 118th Pennsylvania. War may 
arouse bitter antipathies on occasions of actual combat, but 
when both sides speak the same tongue, with the exchange of 
a word or two, hatred and antagonisms melt before a natural- 
tendency to be excessively communicative and sometimes con- 
fiding. Lone fishermen sat upon either end of the bridge, 
dangling their lines resultlessly and chatting complacently. In 
the absence of a mutually acceptable medium of exchange, or 
a suitable scale for the adjustment of the values of the recog- 
nized currency of the two sections, coffee went for tobacco and 
hard-tack for corn-bread. 

A young soldier, not different, however, from the many ever 
anxious, regardless of consequence, to communicate intelligence 
which they conceive they possess exclusively, indiscreetly re- 
marked in the course of a conversation with a new-made Caro- 
lina friend : " You fellows were d — n smart yesterday shelling 
that piece of woods on the side of the hill yonder; we ain't 
camped there ; we're laying over on the flat." 

The next day " those fellows " were smarter — not much 
either. They shelled for the soldiers, but struck in among the 
butchers slaughtering for an issue of fresh beef. The cattle 
had been split into halves down the middle when the shelling 
commenced. The butchers immediately disappeared, leaving 
their half-butchered beeves a certain prey to those less re- 
gardful of their personal safety. It was pretty active and very 
accurate practice that in those days would make a soldier of 
the Potomac army forego such a "sphlen-did" opportunity. 
There was no such activity or accuracy here. By the time the 



— 470 — 

shelling ceased and the butchers returned the slaughtered beef 
had disappeared and its reappearance was never even looked for. 

The young man who had aroused all this disturbance, and 
whose name even none of his old associates can now remember, 
had a remarkable experience during the Petersburg siege. He 
was never believed to be very evenly balanced, and for that 
reason may have been permitted privileges denied to others. 
On this occasion he had started towards a sort of recognized ren- 
dezvous for the pickets of both sides. He had not been long 
away when his companions, looking over to the enemy's works, 
saw him sitting there with his legs over the slope of the para- 
pet, with a Confederate on each side of him, all three engaged 
in what was apparently an animated and quite enjoyable con- 
versation. He returned safely, but the story he gave of his 
adventures is now forgotten. 

A few days more rolled leisurely away. Gradually, as if 
weary of fight, if it were for slaughter only, the gunnery sub- 
sided, until at last it seemed to cease entirely. As bright a 
moon as ever shadowed a Virginia landscape lit the heavens 
on the night of the 12th of June, 1864. Guided by the light 
of its brilliant radiance, ere the midnight hour had gone, the 
far-reaching lines from the Matadaquin to the Chickahominy 
were all abandoned, and, stretching itself towards the James, 
the old Potomac Army, stiff and doughty as afore, was off for 
its lengthy grapple on the Appomattox. 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

PETERSBURG — WELDON RAILROAD — PEEBLE's FARM. 

It was a long wait still, but this was 
to be the final plunge. Nine months 
were yet to come of most exacting ser- 
vice in the trenches. During the forty 
long, weary days which had now 
closed there had been no day in which 
the men, if not actually engaged in 
fighting, had been beyond the sounds 
of artillery and musketry, and day by 
day the list of casualties had grown 
larger and larger. 

The line upon which General Grant 
had determined to fight it out if every 
day of all the summer time should 
witness a battle was crimsoned with 
blood, from the Rapidan to where the deadly miasmas lingered 
around the sluggish waters of the Chickahominy. The sum- 
mer was lost in autumn, autumn in winter and the winter broken 
by spring before the line had come to an end and the battle 
had ceased to rage. 

There was a promise of respite from the daily sounds of car- 
nage. It was fifty miles by the safest route and surest crossing 
of the James to the destination fixed upon. The enemy was to 
be deceived by a feint toward Richmond from the direction of 
White Oak Swamp. Should this deception succeed, the ex- 
posed flank was secure from attack, the march safe from inter- 
ruption. To the point where the end sought for was to follow 

(471) 




— 472 — 

the wise execution of a skilful conception, the movement from 
the Chickahominy to Petersburg was eminently successful. 

This end, the seizure of Petersburg, as usual, failed of its ex- 
pected consummation. Every combination had been made as 
intended. A great army had stolen quietly from actual con- 
tact with its adversary, marched fifty miles, crossed two rivers, 
one a tide-water stream a half mile wide, fifteen fathoms deep, 
and was within an arm's length of the place it purposed seiz- 
ing before its foe knew the point of intended attack. It was 
but thirty-four miles from Cold Harbor to Petersburg by the 
route Lee should travel, but he stood toying with a brigade of 
Wilson's cavalry and a division of Warren's infantry at Rid- 
dells's Shop, a third of the way on his journey, while Grant, 
with full force for his purpose, had reached the coveted posi- 
tion he had sought to seize. But just here something again 
went wrong. Lee, catching the scent, hastened to the rescue,, 
and what might have been the work of a summer's afternoon 
took many months for its accomplishment. 

The chief road-crossings of the Chickahominy below Bot- 
tom's Bridge were Long Bridge, fifteen miles below Cold 
Harbor, where Hancock and Warren were to cross ; Jones's 
Bridge, five miles further down, reserved for Wright and Burn- 
side, and still four miles below that, at the head of navigation, 
was Windsor Shades. There the great trains, moving from 
White House Landing on the Pamunkey, were to find their way 
over. 

The marches at once assumed a business aspect. Long and 
exhaustive they were — from twenty-five to thirty-five and 
sometimes forty-five miles in length. The promise that the 
sounds of battle should not disturb the ear was realized. Wil- 
son and Crawford's affair at Riddells's Shop was so far away or 
so light in contrast with what had gone before that it scarce 
secured a passing comment. 

The halts were for rest and not for bivouac. Crossing Long 
Bridge at dawn on the 13th and moving on until seven o'clock, 
the longest halt was made at White Oak Swamp, where the divi- 



— 473 — 

sion lay all day, awaiting Crawford's call for aid if he should 
find he needed help. What little there was to do required no 
assistance, and at eight o'clock the division was off again to 
make the distance the rest of the army, some of which had 
kept it up continuously for twenty hours, had gained upon it. 
There was a break from two to five, and at nine a lengthy stop 
at Charles City Court-House for breakfast. The 2d was the 
only corps ahead, and at one o'clock, abreast with the 6th, 
the 5th was on the bank, gazing with fitting admiration, as did 
the colonist of old, at the broad sweep of the great, majestic 
James. 

The lands bordering the stream, not sensibly affected by the 
rough usage of '62, were fruitful and abundant. The magnifi- 
cent James River country was ever famous for its wealth, its 
bounteous products, its learned and patriotic aristocracy, from 
the days when Gosnold and Newport and Smith wrenched an 
ownership from the savage proprietors of the soil. It lay, bright 
and picturesque, a landscape unrivalled for beauty. The " great 
river " bore a mighty fleet upon its quiet surface. There were 
craft of all descriptions : vessels of burden, steamers for passage, 
transports and luggers, ferry-boats, schooners, sloops, and the 
high wooden walls of great river boats that had often borne 
gay and joyous crowds on many a summer journey upon " The 
Sound," the Hudson, the Delaware and the Chesapeake, each and 
all of them now subordinated to the urgent needs of the occasion. 
But dominating all these, with their black, gloomy hulls and 
frowning guns, silent, reliable and impressive, were the ships 
of the American Navy. Chief among the war ships was the 
rebel ram " Atlanta," unchanged in shape or name, a recent 
trophy won in valiant fight in distant Southern waters. 

The long pontoon bridge of 100 boats stretched from shore 
to shore. Old Fort Powhattan, revived, reconstructed, im- 
proved, with its sloping parapet, its barbette guns, bristled 
formidable on the other side. The 2d Corps, its columns at- 
tenuated by the distance, was slowly winding its way over the 
bridge ; the great trains and artillery were arriving and parking, 



— 474 — 

and boats and transports were ferrying to and fro to cross the 
soldiers hurriedly. 

For form's sake the river fronts above seemed to need a little 
looking after, and Captain Young, with 150 men, was of a de- 
tail sent to picket on the banks. It was a short season of 
luxury. Upon that line, at least, the men were willing to fight 
it out even if it did take all summer. Removed a short dis- 
tance from where the pressure of numbers had exhausted the 
country's rich supply, there was no limit to the good things 
available. The shad were still running. They were success- 
fully caught, and a shad dinner fairly divided attention between 
diet and duty. Milk, eggs and steaks, pork and mutton, sup- 
plied a dainty supper; and, with well-satisfied appetite, its tour 
of duty finished, 'the detail yielded to the inevitable and gave 
way reluctantly to the unwelcome relief. The Aaron Burr and 
Judah P. Benjamin plantations supplied many of the good things 
the men had so thoroughly enjoyed. 

The respite from the noise of battle was over, and heavy 
cannonading, deep, dull, suggestive, boomed out from the direc- 
tion of Bermuda Hundred. 

At six o'clock, on the morning of the 16th, the regiment 
embarked on the steamer " Exchange" at Wilcox's Landing, 
crossed the river and debarked at Wind Mill Point. The men 
lounged about, bathed, swam and sported in the river until 
half-past one, when the division, the 11 8th leading, began the 
forced march which terminated at midnight within a few miles 
of Petersburg. The journey was enlivened at times by the 
sharp rattle of musketry in the distance and by rumors that 
the division of colored troops had carried the outer works at 
Petersburg. 

Here was the first experience in this vicinity of a water fam- 
ine. The fatiguing march was accompanied by the accustomed 
growling, and word went along the column that the division 
would halt as soon as it reached water. At last it was found, fit, 
probably, for thirsty soldiers, but certainly for none else. A green 
slime floated on the surface; a skilful and sudden movement with 



• — 475 — 

the bottom of the tin-cup opened the scum, and then a hurried 
dip before it closed again supplied a cupful. So urgent was 
the thirst that the foul, slimy liquid was swallowed with avidity, 
regardless of taste or consequence. With the daylight an at- 
tempt to wash in this swampy bayou was speedily abandoned. 
It revealed hosts of forbidding animalculae, tad-poles, " zig- 
zaggers " and every squirming insect that found life and com- 
fort in such repulsive quarters. The flavor of the morning's 
coffee disappeared in gaily bitterness. Rather than fill canteens 
the men moved on in hopes of finding something better. They 
soon discovered their mistake. Instead of finding better, there 
was none at all. In the section the army was approaching and 
that was so long to be its home, there was no water on the 
surface during the hot season just at hand. At every change 
of position it was first a dig for cover and then a dig for 
water. 

General William F. Smith, with his 18th Corps, returned by 
transports from White House Landing to the Army of the 
James, reaching Bermuda Hundred at sunset on the 14th. He 
was ordered, with H ink's division of colored troops, to attack 
Petersburg at daylight. There were six or seven miles to make. 
Reconnoissances, deployments and preliminaries followed, and 
it was seven o'clock in the evening before the assault was de- 
livered. Two miles out the town was encircled by infantry 
parapets. Nobody was there but Wise's brigade of militia and 
Dearing's cavalry brigade. The attack was successful and a 
number of the redans were secured. At nine o'clock others fell 
before another assault. 

Smith, advised that two of Hancock's divisions were within 
supporting distance, sat down before the works for the night. 
Hancock, having had no intimation that Petersburg was to be as- 
saulted on the 1 6th, had stopped to ration his corps and had been 
directed, because of faulty maps, to a point that really had no 
existence. The delay was fatal to immediate success. Lee 
was not convinced or did not know that the Army of the Po- 
tomac was over the James until it was nearly all across. Beau- 



— 476 — 

regard, either with more information or a better grasp of the 
probabilities, on the night of the 16th took Hoke's division 
that Lee had sent him and started it off to Petersburg. It 
reached there before morning, followed closely by Johnson. 
Hagood's brigade of Hoke's division formed on Wise's left, 
and the line with Johnson was about five miles long, with the 
left resting on the Appomattox. No other reinforcements 
arrived until the morning of the 1 8th, when Kershaw and Field, 
and afterwards Heth, reached the ground. 

When Hancock relieved Smith in the morning and assaulted 
he captured two or three more of the outlying redans, together 
with their connecting works, but after desperate fighting and 
with heavy loss. Several vigorous attempts during the night 
to retake the ground were repulsed. Hancock had evidently 
met Hoke and probably Johnson. 

At the first of dawn on the 17th Griffin and Curtin's brigades 
of Potter's division, 9th Corps, were directed to assault the 
redans and lines on the right in the vicinity of the Shands 
House, in silence and with the bayonet. It was one of the few, 
if not the only one, of the many assaults during the war, that 
were so directed, that was so accomplished. The works were 
carried in most gallant shape. The Confederate troops were 
caught asleep with their arms in their hands. Four guns, 
five colors, 600 prisoners and 1,500 stands of small arms were 
captured. 

The assault on the 17th was confined almost entirely to the 
9th Corps, with Barlow, Gibbon and Birney's division at times 
supporting, and Crawford's division of the 5th Corps thrown in 
as a further support on the last attack. All the assaults were 
gallantly conducted, resulting generally in success, but only 
after heavy casualties. 

During the night Beauregard, who had been for the past two 
days managing affairs, determined to withdraw to an interior 
and shorter line which his engineers had laid out for him. The 
line was back from five hundred to a thousand yards; extended 
from the Appomattox first southeast and then south, and inter- 



— 477 — 

sected the original line at the Jerusalem Plank Road. The 
withdrawal was accomplished after midnight and the work of 
entrenchment at once began. This was substantially the line 
of resistance, extended as new developments on our part re- 
quired to be met, during the whole of the operations about 
Petersburg. 

But a few hours had elapsed in time since we had neared 
Petersburg, but they were hours of dangers braved, of oppor- 
tunities lost. If the vigorous assault had been as persistent 
while the enemy's outer works were crumbling as it was when 
he had entrenched himself within his permanent lines, his rout 
would have been complete. 

The regiment remained during the 17th in its bivouac of the 
night before, in hearing of the hard work in progress nearer 
Petersburg. 

On the morning of the 18th, at 4.30, the division moved out 
towards the front, to play its part in the various combina- 
tions planned for execution during that eventful day. Bart- 
lett's was in rear of the division and the 1 1 8th in rear of the 
brigade. 

The march trended towards the left of the Hare House, and 
concluded in rear of the position in front of which on the 
enemy's side was what was afterwards known as Elliott's 
salient, under which the Burnside mine was subsequently ex- 
ploded. On the route the column passed over the site of some 
of the previous hard fighting. The dead of both sides were 
still unburied. In a breastwork which had been occupied by 
the enemy the Confederates, four deep, lay on top of each other. 
The attack at this point had evidently been made by the 1st 
Michigan Sharpshooters, of Wilcox's division, 9th Corps. 
Their dead lay so close that their muskets crossed each other. 
There are thoughtful men who study battles who reject the 
phrase " piles of dead " as an extravagance. The Bloody Lane 
at Antietam, the Bloody Angle at Spottsylvania, and here at 
Petersburg, is testimony sufficient to justify its use. The fight 
at this place was late in the afternoon. The 1st Michigan 



— 473 - 

Sharpshooters were a new regiment, skilled in the use of the 
rifle, as was shown by the dead Confederates, who were shot 
either in the forehead or face. The Confederates held up their 
hands as if about to surrender ; but as soon as the sharpshooters 
were close to their breastwork opened fire on them, at the same 
time giving a terrific yell. Three brothers belonging to the 
sharpshooters were lying near each other. Together in life, 
they were not separated in death. The dead were literally 
piled one upon another. There were but few survivors on 
either side. 

All the corps which were in position — the 2d, 5th and 9th — 
assaulted the new and interior line of the enemy late in the 
afternoon, at hours not widely apart. The most serious work 
in General Warren's corps, whose assault was well managed, 
fell upon the 1st and 2d brigades of Griffin's division. None 
of the assaults were successful, but Griffin's appears to have 
been the most vigorous. His losses were severe and some of 
his men were killed within twenty feet of the enemy's works. 

Colonel Chamberlain, of the 20th Maine, who had recently 
been assigned to a brigade in the division, was desperately 
wounded leading the charge under a destructive fire. He had 
previously been recommended for promotion. He had fully 
earned it as far back as Gettysburg, when he so heroically de- 
fended Little Round Top. His action here accelerated a tardy 
justice and he was promoted upon the spot. It came directly 
through General Grant, who thus refers to it: " Colonel J. L. 
Chamberlain, of the 20th Maine, was wounded on the 1 8th. 
He was gallantly leading his brigade at the time, as he had 
been in the habit of doing in all the engagements in which he 
had previously been engaged. He had several times been 
recommended for a brigadier-generalcy for gallant and meri- 
torious conduct. On this occasion, however, I promoted him 
on tiie spot, and forwarded a copy of my order to the War De- 
partment, asking that my act might be confirmed and Cham- 
berlain's name sent to the Senate for confirmation without delay. 
This was done, and at last a gallant and meritorious officer 



— 479 — 

received partial justice at the hands of his government, which 
he had served so faithfully and so well." * 

A man of high scholarly attainments, a soldier of great 
ability, infinite resources and distinguished courage, he had en- 
deared himself to the officers and men of the 118th Pennsyl- 
vania from their earliest knowledge of him. His wounds, at 
first believed to be mortal, evoked many expressions of regret 
at so severe a loss, and the diaries kept at the time so make 
mention of it. 

Generals Grant and Meade, satisfied that all that could be 
done had been done, gave directions that the assaults should 
cease and that the troops be placed under cover to secure some 
rest, which they most certainly needed. Looking at it from 
the present time, it was a novel sort of rest to be under fire of 
some sort or other part of every day or night. But in those 
days it was assurance that no more earthworks were to be as- 
saulted. These assaults had failed so often, or if successful 
had shown no results, that the men had about concluded that 
they had seen enough of them. And so began the siege of 
Petersburg. 

Though the siege had commenced in purpose it was only as 
the great forts rose responsive to the directions of the engineers, 
and the earthworks assumed a character for strength and en- 
durance before unknown, that the army began to comprehend 
it had settled down to its work of investment. A new experi- 
ence was in waiting. The ever-present dangers, the strain of a 
lengthy and ever-lengthening siege was a startling contempla- 
tion — if soldiers ever stopped or cared to contemplate. The 
sortie, the bomb-proof, the mine, the counter-mine, the covered 
way, new even to these experienced men, they were to learn 
the use and purpose of as well as they already knew of the 
advance, the charge, the assault, the repulse, and all the perils 
of the deadly fray in open field. 

To encircle Petersburg as completely as a siege demanded, 
it was essential that the two railroads, the Weldon and the 
*" Personal Memoirs," Vol. ii. p. 297. 



— 480 — 

Lynchburg, should be covered. It was some time before the 
first was controlled, and the other never was until the city fell. 
The 6th Corps was sent to accomplish this purpose, and the 2d, 
connecting its right with the left of the 5th Corps at the Jeru- 
salem plank road, was ordered to swing around its left and 
close in on the enemy. At first these corps were ordered to 
keep up connections, but these instructions were subsequently 
withdrawn and a gap opened between the 6th and 2d Corps. 
A. P. Hill, sent to look after Wright's attempt on the Weldon 
railroad, leaving Wilcox to take care of him, passed through 
the opening with Mahone, drove back Barlow's and Mott's di- 
vision in some confusion, struck Gibbon's left and broke his 
second line. The entire corps line was subsequently recovered 
and entrenched. The 6th Corps abandoned its attempt on the 
railroads, refused the 2d's left, faced the Weldon railroad, 
though at some distance from the road, and threw its pickets 
out close up to it. In this general position the army remained 
some time, the 9th and 5th Corps being pushed close up to the 
enemy to the eastward of and on the direct Petersburg front. 

The first among the substantial lines built by the division 
was secured by a night advance of the 20th Maine, 1 18th Penn- 
sylvania, 18th Massachusetts, 1st Michigan and 16th Michigan, 
under the command of Colonel Herring. He pushed up as 
close to the enemy's position as his instructions would war- 
rant without involving the troops in a direct assault, and by 
daylight had protected himself with entrenchments calculated, 
after some strengthening, to be maintained as a permanent 
work. The loss in this operation was one man killed and six 
wounded. 

The enemy kept up an active fire during the day. The 
works were an effective cover and the only casualty was Esh- 
back, of Company " I," wounded. 

Active gunnery continued day and night, and the pickets, 
particularly in front of the 9th Corps, were continuously and 
frequently severely engaged. The position held by the regi- 
ment while it occupied the entrenchments, varied by occasional 



- 4 8 1 - 




WORKS AROUND PETERSBURG, SHOWING POSITION 118th OCCUPIED. 
31 



— 482 — 



changes, were at points about equidistant between the Jerusa- 
lem plank road and opposite Elliott's salient, afterwards the 
crater. It was sometimes in reserve, generally in front. Either 
was in effective artillery range, and casualties were as frequent 
in one as in the other. 

Surface water had disappeared entirely. Squads were dis- 
patched in different directions to look for signs indicating that 
with pick and shovel a supply might be secured below the sur- 
face. Sergeant Nugent, ready 
and reliable, was the most suc- 
cessful in discovering it. After 
a search of several hours he 
set his squad to work, and at 
the depth of five or six feet 
found excellent water. Two 
barrels sunk to the bottom 
Availed the well, and a guard 
thrown around it kept off in- 
truders not entitled to its 
privileges. The sergeant, as 
a recognition of his discovery, 
was placed in charge of the 
guard, but, though less ex- 
posed, he soon grew weary 
and lonesome of a retirement 
that kept him from his compan- 
ions, and at the end of three 
days, at his own request, was returned to his company. The 
well was not altogether out of range, and musket balls, pretty 
well spent, often dropped near it. One had enough force left 
to kill, and a man loaded with canteens was shot just as he 
reached the well. 

It is said to have been a mystery to the Confederates where 
our water came from. In fact, they were encouraged in the 
belief that it came from the James, that sufficient quantities 
could not long continue to be hauled so great a distance to 




*m*-n-£' ' 






— 4§3 — 

sustain the army, and Grant consequently must soon abandon 
his lines. Theirs was obtained from the water works of the 
city of Petersburg, and as the works were never intended to 
answer such demands, the supply was limited, and to procure 
it involved much inconvenience and labor. An early inquiry 
after the picKets became acquainted cleared up the mystery, 
and the enemy soon became as apt well-diggers as our men. 

The pickets soon began to fraternize with probably a greater 
freedom and familiarity than ever before. Certainly, the in- 
timacy, if not closer, was of greater length. Instead of de- 
pending on individual posts to conduct the usual bartering a 
regular exchange was arranged. A little clump of trees be- 
tween the lines concealed a broad stump. This soon became 
the recognized market place. One side would visit it, leaving 
their contributions, and the other taking them away would de- 
posit theirs. There were no calls for more margin, no " clearing 
house " to settle differences. Every barter was accompanied 
by immediate delivery, all questions of value were subordinated 
to needs, and the traders were satisfied with goods furnished 
by one side that were unobtainable by the other. The article 
most desired by our men was tobacco, and of this the Confed- 
erates seemed always to have an abundant supply. 

An enterprising fellow, probably familiar with merchandising 
from having been employed in a country store, inventoried a 
list of articles he was most in need of, offering liberal terms of 
barter or purchase, and sent it with a request for its free circu- 
lation across the lines. This man who was on picket walked 
out towards our pickets, and placed a stick between the lines, 
and stuck on it the communication. He then returned to his 
position. The ever active and investigating Smith, of " K," 
who was on picket at the time, promptly went out from his 
post and received it. Smith still has the paper in his posses- 
sion, and treasures it as a memento. A fac-simile of it is here 
introduced. The paper is indeed worth preserving, and espe- 
cially so in view of the fate which befell the writer a few days 
later, of which mention will be made. 



4 8 4 



G-*?- "75 Sb~^~**- stA/IsTf* 't^uT^g 









^rX^U^^^^ 



— 485 — 




• ^?i§er 




Cards were often played. A large tree between the lines 
offered convenient shade, and it was not a rare sight to see 

* The following letter shows that the name of the man was J. T. Lumpkin : 

"Tallahassee, Fla., May 31, 1886. 
" Mr. J. L. Smith: 

" Dear Sir : — Yours of the 26th inst. to hand. Your suggestion that the name 
you wish to know is Lompkins, instead of Tompkins, caused a search among the 
L's, and I find upon the register the name of 4th Sergeant J. T. Lumpkin, Com- 
pany G, 2d Florida Regiment, who is doubtless the man you seek. If you re- 
member the personal appearance of the man you may recognize him by this de- 
scription, as I remember him. He was at that time about twenty-two or twenty- 
three years of age, near six feet tall, weighed about 180 pounds, dark complexion, 
dark hair and eyes, round, smooth face, and incessant talker, sometimes stammering 
when excited, considerably addicted to boasting and profanity, in fact a bravado. If 
this is the man you seek, he met his fate one summer evening on the breastwork in 
front of Petersburg. You will possibly remember that there was a tacit agreement 
between the pickets to our left of the Jerusalem plank road to cease firing every 
afternoon about four o'clock while changing or relieving the pickets; in short, an 
informal truce which was in direct violation of Confederate orders, but neverthe- 
less faithfully observed, except on one occasion. Perry's brigade, of which the 
2d Florida was a part, and which I then commanded, occupied that part of the line 
known as the ' Tim River's Salient,' and immediately in front of what the United 
States soldiers called ' Fort Hell.' On this occasion Joe Davis's brigade, from 
another portion of our lines, had, just before the time for relieving pickets, re- 
lieved the brigade on our left, and, of course, received the general orders to fire 
upon every soldier showing himself. When the pickets were being relieved, the 
Union pickets, as usual, stood up in their pits to get their blankets, etc., in readi- 
ness for marching, whereupon some of Davis's men fired upon them, killing and 



486 



six, eight or even ten men under it of the 1st Michigan, 20th 
Maine, 18th and 22d Massachusetts engaged in some game of 
chance. 

While this understanding was pending, Sergeant Daniel B. 
Cobb, of " H," occupied one of the picket rifle pits. The men 
occupying the pit on the right kindled a fire to cook coffee. The 
fire caught the dry grass, and, as it was spreading rapidly in his 
direction, Cobb rose to extinguish it, and while stamping it 

out a single, well- 
directed shot from 
the enemy shattered 
one of the bones of 
his right forearm. 
The wound subse- 
quently required an 
operation, removing 
the entire bone from 
the elbow to the 
wrist. The man who 
fired the shot did so 
of his own motion 
and was severely 
censured for his con- 
duct. The next day 
a man was seen pa- 
rading the earth- 
works with a log of 
wood across his shoulders. As identifying him as the delin- 
quent and indicative of the condemnation of his actions, his 




SERGEANT DANIEL B. COBB. 



wounding some. This provoked a return fire upon Davis's front. At that time 
Lumpkin was walking upon the top of the breastwork, and, being cautioned by 
some of his friends against thus exposing himself, after the firing was provoked, re- 
plied with an oath that the d — d Yankee bullet that was to hit him had not been 
moulded yet. The words had scarcely left his lips when a bullet crashed through 
his hip, and he fell heavily into the works. That night his leg was amputated at 
the hip-joint, and next day he had joined the countless throng gone before. 
" Yours respectfully, 

" D. Lam;, Adjutant- General." 



- 4§7 - 

companions loudly extended an invitation to shoot him. No 
one seemed disposed to accept it. Vengeance slumbered in the 
satisfaction of the execration visited on the creature by his own 
associates. 

Not so with the 9th Corps's front. Where the picket posts 
of the 5th Corps stopped and that corps began was a point — 
the enemy knew it well — for a resumption of hostilities. No 
terms or conditions would induce their cessation. Whether 
it was a bitterness towards the division of colored troops — a 
part of the 9th Corps — or whether the lines were so close that 
each side feared treachery and a surprise, was never distinctly 
understood. It was more than likely the danger of a surprise, 
as when picket firing did cease during the day it was always re- 
sumed there at night, preceded, as the night approached, with 
a warning from each side that they were about to commence 
firing. 

The harmony prevailing in front of the 5th Corps was in 
striking contrast. On one occasion during the night large fires 
burst out in many places well to the rear of our lines. They 
were doubtless caused from the destruction of condemned sup- 
plies or stores, so wholly useless as not to be worth removal. 
These fires attracted the enemy's attention and aroused his sus- 
picions. Just before day the pickets, with no intimation of 
their purpose, opened with vigorous volleys. Musket balls 
whistled overhead, struck the works, rattled through the tim- 
ber, until day had dawned sufficiently to bring objects fully 
into view. Then the enemy, anxious to resume their friendly atti- 
tude, cried out : " Yanks, don't fire ! the hull thing's a mistake." 
The large fires had created the impression that our army was 
about to withdraw, and with a view to hinder it as much as 
possible the entire picket line had been ordered to open. Day- 
light revealed the error into which the Confederates had fallen. 
Profuse expressions of regrets followed on their part. The 
enemy were given to understand emphatically that the Union 
army had come there to stay, and cautioned not to be again 
led into such a blunder. 



— 488 — 

There was no other interruption of the amicable picket rela- 
tions while the division remained in this position, except as 
more active operations on either side at times required it, and 
then a word of caution was given. 

The great breastworks afforded tolerable protection from the 
effects of active artillery practice, and the agreement between 
the pickets had stopped the whirr of the deadly musket ball, 
when a new but not altogether unknown weapon and missile 
found a place at the front. The Army of the Potomac had ac- 
quired a little practical acquaintance with mortars and mortar 
shells at rare intervals through the war. At Petersburg this 
acquaintanceship grew to a close and very undesirable intimacy. 
Mortar shells move with grave deliberation. They rise slowly,, 
curve gracefully, descend easily, plunge fatally, if any one has 
the temerity to remain exposed where they fall. Their slow 
flight, readily traceable by the burning fuse, and not infre- 
quently by the sight of the shell itself, affords ample oppor- 
tunity to escape the consequences of the explosion, if there be 
a place to escape to. And the only place of assured safety is 
the well and securely constructed " bomb-proof." With these 
in abundance, mortar practice loses much of its terror, and 
with both besiegers and besieged is sometimes started to while 
away monotony, amuse soldier visitors, or afford the entertain- 
ment attending a fine display of pyrotechnics. 

Later on in the siege, when Fort Sedgwick had secured its 
sobriquet of Fort Hell, and Mahone of Fort Damnation, an 
officer from the left, where the lines were not so close, accom- 
panied by a few friends, rode over in that direction, through 
the covered ways, for a more practical insight into siege opera- 
tions. The lines were closer at these forts than at any other 
point. A little to the right of Sedgwick was a cohorn battery 
that answered very well for exhibition purposes when such in- 
quisitive prowlers happened around- It was a dull, murky 
afternoon ; the batteries on both sides were quiet. No one ven- 
tured to suggest to the officer in charge of the cohorns that a 
little practice would be agreeable, but he, observing that the 



— 489 - 

strangers were in search of what to them he thought was 
doubtless a novelty, hazarded a shot or two. As the mis- 
siles rose and curved towards their destination, his men mounted 
the parapet to watch with what effective aim their shots had 
been directed and to give the caution to " cover" if the enemy's 
reply should come as true as sent. The response came quickly, 
and all prepared to seek the friendly bomb-proofs, when the 
watchers on the ramparts stopped the movement with the re- 
mark : " Never mind ; stay where you are. There it goes, 
right into hell." It seemed, so it was stated, that such was 




usually the case. No matter what batteries in that vicinity 
opened, the enemy usually punished Sedgwick for the sins of 
all the others. 

The bomb-proofs went up, or rather went down, rapidly, and 
great subterranean cities took the place of the canvas-covered 
towns in the trenches. 

They required considerable timber. There was not much to 
be spared from the immediate vicinity, and to drag it by hand 
from the rear involved time and labor. The 1 1 8th were on 
terms of close friendship with the men of a battery on their 



— 490 — 

right. Their horses were idle and were kindly proffered to do 
the hauling. The pine logs were laid transversely across the 
excavation, chinked with leaves and boughs, and from twenty- 
four to thirty inches of dirt was thrown on top and closely 
packed. This roof was impervious to all sorts of missiles. 
Some of the bomb-proofs were built to accommodate a dozen 
men or more, and were of dimensions of some fourteen by six- 
teen feet. 

The company cook-houses were constructed in a horseshoe 
shape, some three feet deep, with dirt thrown up towards the 
front and on the flanks. A covered way led from the bomb- 
proofs to the cook-houses, flanked with logs, and deep enough 
for dodging if artillery disturbed a passage at the hours for 
meals. 

1st Sergeant Mayberry and Sergeant Paul, not satisfied with 
such crowded accommodations, and convinced that they could 
improve on the ordinary plan of construction for light and air 
at least, concluded to build private quarters for themselves. 
Instead of resting the two ends of the transverse logs directly 
upon the earth, two logs were laid transversely at either end 
of the excavation and then two other logs, long enough to in- 
clude the entire length of the pit, were laid longitudinally on 
these end pieces. The roof logs were then laid on the long 
stringers, and an opening of from six to eight inches wide thus 
secured, extending the whole length of the bomb-proof for the 
free entrance of light and air. The structure was convenient 
and cheerful, but its occupancy proved decidedly precarious. 
Mayberry and Paul, resting on the wane of a summer's after- 
noon, after a hard tour of duty, had their repose most seriously 
interrupted. Their bunk was lengthwise of the bomb-proof. 
There they both lay asleep. A twelve-pound shell with lighted 
fuse entered one of the openings, rolled underneath the bunk 
and exploded. Many saw the missile enter and heard the ex- 
plosion that followed. That Mayberry and Paul should ever 
appear again except as mangled corpses was never for a mo- 
ment contemplated. A crowd gathered at the entrance, ready 



— 49 1 — 

with assistance when the smoke should clear away, when sud- 
denly they both loomed up, powder-begrimed, but unharmed 
and sound. Their astonishment for a time hindered their com- 
prehension of the situation. Their senses soon returned, but 
the mystery of their safe deliverance was never solved. The 
shot must have been a shrapnel ; well nigh a half-bucketful of 
broken iron and musket balls was gathered, and the cracks 
and breaks along the edges were safely and securely closed for- 
ever after. 

George W. Yeager, of" I," known by the familiar designa- 
tion of " Pud," on one occasion had steak on the spider, coffee 
in the pot, potatoes in the stewpan. His messmates watched 
with gleesome hearts the preparation of the toothsome feast. 

" ' Pud,' sure you salted that steak ?" 

" Forgot it, by thunder," and " Pud " crawled to his " dug- 
out " for a supply. It wasn't worth while to come back. A 
shell had burst in " Pud's " improvised kitchen. Steak, coffee, 
pot, fire, everything had disappeared. " Pud " lost his supper 
but saved himself. 

Rumors had prevailed, evidently accredited as well founded 
at the head-quarters of the army, that a brigade on the other 
side only awaited a favorable opportunity to come in entire. 
Instructions had been issued the pickets that if a single man 
approached they were not to fire ; and further instructions that 
they were not to fire if two or three came along ; finally there 
was to be no firing at any body of men provided they were 
moving by a flank. An approach in line of battle was the only 
sort of force to be resisted. Not satisfied but that the whole 
thing might be a ruse intended to cover a surprise, the reserves 
were brought up at night and lay in rear of the troops occupy- 
ing the trenches until daylight. Ultimately it was developed 
that the matter had been well planned but failed at the moment 
when it was ready for consummation. Two brothers came in, 
one a little fellow who had been pushed out as a vedette at 
night beyond the pickets, and the other a big, brawny chap 
who was of the reserves. It was the night fixed ; the big 



— 49 2 — 

brother, becoming a little anxious, had moved out to the little 
one, the vedette, to see that everything was right, and was re- 
turning to perfect the movement, but becoming alarmed rushed 
back to him again and the two came in together. Their com- 
ing was followed by loud, continued talking, much moving 
about and the clanking of officers' swords, all distinctly audible 
to the picket line. The plot had evidently miscarried ; the 
officer had discovered it. The next day the place of the 
brigade that had contemplated this desertion was supplied by 
another. 

It was essential that the amnesty proclamation, issued about 
this time, should in some way reach those invited to accept its 
immunities. ' It was ordered that the pickets should find means to 
deliver it to the enemy. They knew if they made their mission 
known the enemy would refuse to receive the paper, and they 
seemed indisposed to resort to a subterfuge to effect its delivery. 
But it was ordered to be done, and no matter how distasteful, 
the order must be obeyed. Captain Walters, in command of the 
detail, feeling that if he intrusted to his men the execution of 
his instructions they would either be attended to slovenly or 
avoided entirely, resolved to look after the matter himself. He 
threw off his uniform and robed himself in the garb of an en- 
listed man. Then having intimated by some cabalistic sign the 
soldiers had between themselves that he was desirous of effect- 
ing an exchange of newspapers, he loaded himself with an arm- 
ful of daily journals containing the proclamation and started for 
the enemy's lines. For all these he received only a single copy 
of the Richmond Despatch in exchange. Walters did not stop 
to parley, nor complain of the inadequacy of the consideration ; 
he felt convinced that if the character of the matter he had 
foisted off was detected it was doubtful whether he would be 
permitted to return at all. Hence without ceremony he has- 
tened away. He had scarcely resumed his proper garb when 
a volume of bitter denunciation greeted his ears. The reason 
for his liberality had suddenly appeared. It was quite apparent 
that, so far at least as a public acknowledgment was concerned, 



— 493 — 

that no one on the other side, in that vicinity, sought condone- 
ment for the sin of rebellion. 

Rockets were fired as a signal that a welcome and pardon 
awaited all those ready to return to their allegiance. There 
were no responses ; whoever did propose to respond preferred 
to do so when less demonstration should attend their action. 
The gnawings of hunger, the result of an impoverished com- 
missariat, doubtless prompted desertions from the Confederate 
ranks more effectually than stricken consciences. 

The every-day acquaintance with danger resulted frequently 
in unnecessary, careless exposure. It was generally pretty ac- 
tive practice that would drive men to the bomb-proofs. Occa- 
sional discharges were often regarded as harmless inventions to 
annoy. Corporal Robert Trenwith, of " B," had risen in a 
particularly cheerful mood, and as it was the day for an issue 
of rations, conceived it to be the first of his morning duties to 
look for the company quartermaster sergeant. He found him 
a short distance to the rear ready with supplies. No one was 
ahead and Trenwith seated himself on the bank, opened his 
haversack and talked gayly and whistled while the quartermas- 
ter doled out his allowances. A few mortar shells had been 
falling about innocently without attracting serious attention, 
when one appeared directly over the heads of the quartermas- 
ter and Trenwith. It was too late to avoid it ; one or both 
must go. The quartermaster escaped. The shell struck 
Trenwith on the right shoulder, tore off his entire right side 
and then, exploding, reduced the rest of his body to a shapeless 
mass beyond the form or appearance of a human being. The 
fragments were carefully gathered in a gum blanket and de- 
cently interred within the entrenchments. Corporal Trenwith 
was an excellent soldier. By his cheerful disposition and at- 
tractive ways he had drawn around him many friends. 

With constant practice the artillery on both sides had se- 
cured quite accurate range. The embrasures of the fortifica- 
tions were a favorite mark. Construction parties from the 1 1 8th 
contributed materially to the erection of Fort Sedgwick or 



— 494 — 

Fort Hell. After the embrasures had been constructed, while 
the work on the interior was still in progress, a watch was al- 
ways kept through them to warn the working parties to look 
for cover at the discharge of every gun aimed in their direc- 
tion. Sometimes the watchers, disposed to trifle, would pur- 
posely communicate a false alarm. Men engaged in such labor 
are in no mood for twitting. They are anxious to be through 
with it and get away. Such a joke once or twice repeated 
would secure the perpetrators a merited rebuke administered 
in very caustic language. When there was no firing the enemy 
would stand watching the work with apparently as much in- 
terest as if it was their own, looking, as the men styled it, as 
if they were " bossing the job." 

On the morning of the 30th, at twenty minutes of four 
o'clock, the Burnside mine, the work of a month's incessant 
toil, was successfully exploded. Conceived by a talented Penn- 
sylvania engineer, Lieutenant-Colonel Pleasants, of the 48th 
Pennsylvania, carried to successful consummation by his skill 
and untiring energy, its explosion opened the way to Peters- 
burg. But the way was closed by a delayed and mismanaged 
assault, for which inadequate preparations had been made, and 
by the personal cowardice of two general officers, whose faith- 
ful soldiers were left to flounder in the jaws of death without 
direction or guidance. General Walker, in his " History of the 
Second Army Corps," page 568, thus feelingly and eloquently 
refers to an instance so exceptional : " Never before or after in 
the history of the Potomac Army was such an exhibition made 
of official incapacity and personal cowardice. Speaking gener- 
ally, our officers of rank were only too ready to expose them- 
selves to danger, and the lists of killed and wounded testify 
how faithfully they discharged the trust committed to them. 
But at the mine two division commanders were hiding in 
bomb-proofs, while their troops wandered aimlessly from lack 
of direction or halted in front of obstacles which a single 
manly effort would have overcome." 

The explosion opened a crater one hundred and fifty feet 



— 495 — 

long, sixty wide and twenty-five deep, overwnelmed the battery 
in Elliott's salient, the whole of the 18th and part of the 23d 
South Carolina Infantry, and spread such confusion and con- 
sternation, that for some distance on each side of it, the enemy's 
entrenchments were temporarily abandoned. It was half an 
hour after the mine exploded before the enemy's musketry be- 
came at all effective, and although our troops, five minutes after 
the explosion, had filed into the crater, they had not yet ef- 
fected such a lodgement as would ensure a permanent holding. 
There was some sharp and gallant contests, but ultimately a 
most disastrous failure followed. At half-past twelve o'clock, 
after a loss of upwards of four thousand men, the assaulting 
columns were ordered to withdraw from the crater, where they 
had crowded to excess, to their places in the entrenchments. 

The affair was peculiarly the 9th Corps's. With any indica- 
tion of a permanent advantage, the 5th was designed to play a 
prominent part. Ayres's division and Cutler's brigade were 
massed to support Burnside, and Griffin's division, temporarily 
under the command of Bartlett, General Griffin being absent 
on sick-leave, held the whole front of the corps's entrench- 
ments. General Bartlett was ordered to keep up a severe and 
continuous musketry fire, which he did, and was directed to ad- 
vance at any intimation of break in the enemy's lines. This 
he did not do, as there was no break to warrant it. All the 
corps's artillery was heavily engaged and did some serious 
execution. 

Sergeant Nugent says that after the victims in the crater had 
been mercilessly punished for some hours, the men of the 
regiment, convinced that the enemy must get it back, but satis- 
fied they would not attempt it until nightfall, being weary from 
a rise long before day, concluded to go to sleep. Precedent 
justified this conviction. Assaults were almost invariably made 
with the break of day or coming of darkness. Such was not 
the sergeant's belief in this instance, and so expressing him- 
self, he seated himself on the earthworks to await develop- 
ments while the rest slept. About noon what he believed 



— 49 6 — 

would follow was realized. In rear of the crater was the crest, 
without which the crater was untenable. A long line ap- 
peared rising the crest and moving obliquely over it toward the 
crater. The guns all trained on this point did not open im- 
mediately, and the sergeant rushed for the nearest battery. 
There, too, he found the gunners asleep. He aroused them. 
There was nothing to do but pull the lanyards. Mighty dis- 
charges followed. The shots struck in front ; some took ef- 
fect, but the ranks were either closed up or the men bowed 
easily and let them pass over. It was of no avail ; the line 
moved on and the crater fell after they were repulsed twice. 

The killed from this terrible slaughter lay in full view for 
several days. The heat was intense, bodies decomposed rapidly 
and when the wind came from that direction the stench was 
intolerable. 

The colored troops had been paid off just before the mine 
explosion, and the enemy reaped a goodly harvest of green- 
backs from the killed, wounded and prisoners. For some time 
afterwards, the enemy would stand upon the breastworks at 
the conclusion of the frequent artillery duels, and derisively 
cry loud enough to be heard distinctly: "Did that send 
any more niggers to the devil ? " " When will the niggers be 
paid off again ? " " Send them in on another charge when they 
get their money." Such and other kindred expressions of con- 
tempt for the colored troops continued until the mine affair had 
been absorbed in other momentous occurrences of a later date. 

General Hancock had been sent to the north side of the 
James as a diversion in favor of the operations attending the 
mine explosion. He succeeded in drawing four of the enemy's 
divisions after him, but the prompt concentration of those left 
effected the speedy recovery of the ground lost at the crater. 

On the 9th of July the 6th Corps was sent to overcome 
Early's Washington demonstration. Subsequently it gathered 
laurels for itself in Sheridan's splendid campaign in the Valley 
of Virginia, and did not rejoin the Potomac Army until about 
the Christmas times. 



— 497 — 

As the asperities following the mine disaster subsided the 
picket familiarities were resumed. A small ravine covered 
with bushes was shielded from the observation of officers and 
opportunities were stolen for interviews. The troops opposite 
were from North Carolina and Florida. Some were boastful 
and confident ; others dejected and despondent. The few de- 
sponding ones, had they been relieved from the presence of their 
more confident associates, might have been persuaded to come 
in. Lumpkins, the Floridian, had, in his previous interview, 
displayed a roll of some two hundred dollars in greenbacks 
which he said he had taken from the dead in the Wilderness. 
He professed to be a property-owner to the extent of seventy- 
five thousand dollars. This he was determined to defend. He 
was bitter in his denunciations, and rudely resented the intima- 
tion that his possessions would be assured him if he renounced 
his adherence to rebellion. 

A rumor prevailed that the enemy were mining under Fort 
Sedgwick. A counter-mine was sprung but failed to detect 
anything. It seemed to be generally accredited that mines had 
actually been begun, but the attempt was foiled by reason of 
quicksands. 

Robert Parks, of " I," a Scotchman, could imitate the sound 
of a ball to perfection. He was one of a group standing be- 
hind the entrenchments when an officer who had always per- 
sistently condemned dodging passed. The temptation was 
irresistible and Parks plied his imitations so rapidly that ap- 
parently the whole line had opened. The effect on the officer 
was instantaneous ; dodging handsomely, he sought cover 
promptly, much to the amusement of Parks and his com- 
panions. 

The summer had been oppressively hot and the drought ex- 
cessive. No rain fell from the 3d of June to the 19th of July, 
a period of forty-seven days. Nor did any improvement follow 
the August rains ; the high temperature continued, and the 
atmosphere became damp and humid. 

On the nights of the 14th and 15th of August the 5th Corps 
32 



— 498 - 

was relieved from its entrenchments by the 9th and held ready- 
to move. The purpose this time was to take and hold the 
Weldon Railroad. The weather was excessively hot and close. 
An oppressive, warm rain fell and roads and fields were almost 
impassable with wheels. On the morning of the 18th Griffin's 
division struck camp near the Cheves House, in the vicinity of 
Fort Davis, a little before four o'clock, and marched about five 
miles. General Griffin had resumed command. The division 
led the corps and reached Dr. Gurley's about seven o'clock. 
There Dearing's brigade of the enemy's cavalry was encoun- 
tered, and a line was formed of the 1st and 3d Brigades with a 
strong skirmish line in front. Dearing's brigade was disposed 
of by the pickets of the 3d New York Cavalry and several men 
were captured. The division then pushed on across the rail- 
road at the Yellow or Globe Tavern without opposition, where 
it arrived about nine o'clock. From the Jerusalem Plank Road 
to the Tavern is about three miles. 

The country in the vicinity of Dr. Gurley's was heavily tim- 
bered ; from there to the railroad was more or less open. The 
railroad runs north and south. The march had deflected well 
to the southward to conceal it from the enemy. To the north- 
ward of the line of march dense timber covered almost the en- 
tire distance from the Jerusalem Plank Road to the railway. 
Numerous cartways and paths well known to the enemy crossed 
it in all directions. The Halifax Road runs parallel with the 
railroad. Beyond it, to the westward, about a mile, is the 
Vaughan Road. This road enters the Halifax Road to the 
north towards Petersburg, about a mile and a half from the 
Globe Tavern. Between the Vaughan and the Halifax Roads 
timber and cultivated lands alternate each other. Some of the 
open spaces towards the Vaughan Road, subsequently occupied 
by the enemy, were rising ground, well adapted for the location, 
of batteries. The lines held by our forces were equally well 
suited for artillery, the timber at the same time concealing the 
guns. 

General Griffin's division was disposed of immediately to 



— 499 — 

cover the position to the south and west. A strong picket line 
was thrown out some fifteen hundred yards to the front towards 




the Vaughan Road, and measures were at once taken by build- 
ing rifle-pits and slashing to strengthen the position of the main 
line. During the various movements and heavy contests of 



— 5°° — 

the three following days the division did not change its position 
materially, except that about five o'clock on the afternoon of 
the 19th the 1st and 3d Brigades were moved to the right and 
north to the line occupied by the other divisions of the corps. 
The 3d Brigade was absent but a short time, when it returned 
to its position without being engaged. The 187th Pennsylvania 
Volunteers had a very sharp engagement, the rest of the 1st 
Brigade remaining, meanwhile, in the second line of works. 
The whole of the 1st Brigade returned to its position the next 
morning. 

General Ayres, advancing to the north along the railway, 
had reached within a half mile of the intersection of the 
Vaughan Road. Dearing had been prompt to communicate 
the appearance of a heavy force to seize the railroad, and Gen- 
eral Heth, with Davis's and Walker's brigades, was pushed to 
his support. The enemy showing a firm determination to con- 
test Ayres's further advance, General Crawford was sent to his 
right to prevent his being outflanked. Moving out the Vaughan 
Road about two o'clock Heth made a sudden attack upon 
Ayres's left. To prevent being outflanked Ayres drew back, 
then advancing drove the enemy from the ground. This 
ended the fighting for the day. General Crawford, all the way 
through dense woods, continued to move forward his right until 
dark. 

The enemy's artillery reached Griffin's line, enfilading it. An 
enlisted man of the regiment, beside Captain Wilson, stepped 
aside to avoid a mud-hole; the captain took the mud; a solid 
shot struck the soldier and killed him. Wilson was un- 
harmed. 

The corps line was bent at something of an angle. Griffin 
faced west ; Ayres and Crawford, with their fronts extending 
eastward towards the left of the main line of the besieging 
works at the Jerusalem Plank Road, faced north. There was 
yet a gap between Crawford's right and the pickets in that 
vicinity, and on the morning of the 19th General Bragg of 
Cutler's division was ordered to establish a picket line to con- 



— 501 — 

nect with the pickets of the 9th Corps. The work was prob- 
ably defectively performed ; "but at best," General Humphreys 
says, " would have constituted a very imperfect guard against 
an active enemy acquainted in detail with the woods, which 
at the distance of twenty paces screened everything from 
sight." 

At half-past four o'clock General Mahone, with Weisiger's, 
Colquit's, and Clingman's brigades, moving in column of fours 
left in front, broke through the picket line and facing to the left 
swept rapidly down Crawford's line. His and the right of Gen- 
eral Ayres's line were compelled to fall back, the skirmish line 
doing so in great confusion, masking the front of the line of 
battle. At the same time Heth, with Davis's and Walker's brig- 
ades, attacked Ayres's left. The repeated attempts to drive it 
back failed. Two regiments of the Pennsylvania Veteran Re- 
serve out on the skirmish line were nearly all captured. Gen- 
eral Hayes, whom the 118th had so well known as Colonel 
of the 1 8th Massachusetts, and whose high soldierly character 
had always elicited their admiration, was taken prisoner. He 
had received deserved promotion, and at the time commanded 
the 1st Brigade of Ayres's division. 

General Ayres's and Crawford's line were reformed, and, 
with General Wilcox's division of the 9th Corps, which had in 
the meantime come up, advanced, drove Mahone back in great 
confusion to his entrenchments, recovered the ground taken 
and captured some prisoners. Heth's two brigades remained 
confronting Ayres's left. 

General Griffin's division, under a flank fire from the enemy's 
artillery, was not engaged, except the 187th Pennsylvania of 
its 1st Brigade, which, as before mentioned, was sent to the 
point of attack. 

General Warren in his official report of this engagement 
says : "An instance of brutality occurred on the part of a rebel 
officer which deserves execration. Finding he was too closely 
pressed to carry off Captain Newberry, 12th United States In- 
fantry, a prisoner, he deliberately put a pistol to his breast and 
shot him. This is the testimony of the dying man himself." 



— 5° 2 — 

But the enemy were still inclined to be persistent. The oc- 
cupation of the Weldon Railroad, if permitted to continue, 
would it was felt be soon extended farther and would of itself 
cause great embarrassment. This was true, for afterwards the 
enemy's nearest available railway station was Stony Creek, 
some fifteen miles south of Petersburg. From there a wagon 
haul was necessary by Dinwiddie Court-House and the Boyd- 
ton Plank Road of some thirty miles for all the supplies that 
before had reached Petersburg by this all-rail route. The Con- 
federates could not afford to give it up until blow after blow 
had been struck for its recovery. Expecting another attack, 
General Warren drew in his northern and northwestern lines to 
better adjust them for artillery defence, thus strengthening his 
infantry reserve. 

He did not wait long. The 20th passed in quiet. On the 
morning of the 21st of August, about ten o'clock, the woods to 
the north and west showed evidence of life. Lines of gray 
three and four deep emerged from them, and with flaunting 
battle-flags bore down on the pickets. Batteries were run 
out on commanding eminences and thundered away effectively 
with an oblique fire. The pickets that were not captured fell 
back slowly, fighting. The attack fell heavily upon the Mary- 
land brigade. Colonel Dushane, its commanding officer, a 
gallant soldier, was killed. General J. William Hoffman, the 
distinguished Philadelphia!!, who bore high battle honors for 
his city so honorably throughout the war, with his brigade of 
the 4th Division resisted the severe assault on his front man- 
fully and successfully. 

The Confederates came up through the standing corn in four 
lines of battle. The Maryland brigade laid down so that they 
could not be seen, and when the Confederates were within fifty 
yards they rose up and delivered a withering fire. Six times 
the flag of the first line of Confederates fell, and six times a 
color corporal picked it up and was killed. After that it laid 
on the ground until it was captured. The corn-stalks were cut 
off by the bullets as if with a knife. 



— 503 — 

These assaults were renewed but without effect. Hagood's 
brigade of South Carolinians, caught in a position where our 




troops were in echelon, were almost surrounded, threw down 
their arms and it was thought surrendered, when the firing 
ceased. Parties moving out to complete the capture were, 



— 504 — 

however, fired upon. In the confusion our men could not re- 
turn the fire and many of Hagood's men escaped. Captain 
Daly, the provost-marshal of the 4th Division, was shot — Gen- 
eral Warren says, by Hagood himself. It was a dastardly 
piece of work. Daly, as his official duties required, had rid- 
den out to gather in the prisoners, believed to have sur- 
rendered, when a general officer, mounted upon a white horse, 
deliberately shot him. This act was plainly seen from several 
directions on the line and by our whole regiment. Instantly 
the men rose, levelled their pieces, fired, and both horse and 
rider fell. Every musket was discharged with fixed resolve; 
every aim was cool. General Sanders was the only Confederate 
general officer reported killed on this occasion. If it was a 
general officer who killed Daly, it must have been he and not 
Hagood.* Many battle-flags were taken. Private F. C. An- 
derson, Company A, of the 18th Massachusetts, captured the 
colors of the 27th South Carolina, bringing in the color 
sergeant also. 

The prisoners said that their men had been urged to the as- 
sault by persuasive appeal, assured that the force holding the 
railroad was light and that at every cost its possession must be 

*" The News and Courier," Charleston, South Carolina. 

November 14, 1887. 
Mr. J. L. Smith, Philadelphia, 

Dear Sir : — Some little difficulty in obtaining the information you asked for 
has prevented me from replying to your note at an earlier date. I was not on 
General Hagood's staff, but have seen him on the subject of your inquiry. 

General Hagood says that the fight in question took place at Globetown and no 
other brigade but General Hagood's took part in the fight. Finnigan's brigade 
had no part whatever in the fight. General Hagood did not ride a white horse. 
When he went into action he rode a bay hor^e, and after the personal 'encounter 
with the staff officer, which is mentioned in the letter (and whose name, I think, 
was Daly), he took the officer's horse and rode that. It was a bay horse which 
was secured by General Hagood in this way. In a few minutes the horse was 
killed, General Hagood falling with it This led to the rumor that General Ha- 
good was killed. 

I trust that this information is what you want, and have the pleasure to remain. 

Yours very truly, 

F. W. Dawson. 



— 505 — 

recovered. One of them, a shoemaker, had been hustled away 
from his work-bench in Petersburg in the morning and by 
noon was a prisoner of war. He did not seem to worry over 
the change. 

The Flowers House lay between the Vaughan and Halifax 
Roads, nearest the former (see map). The family consisted of 
a mother and son, pretty well grown. They were said to have 
once been Philadelphians and to have had a strong bias towards 
the Union cause. The boy had been permitted to pass freely 
to and fro from Petersburg, and had occasionally found his way 
into and made some acquaintances in our lines. The cellar 
walls extended two or three feet above the ground ; the rest of 
the building was frame. The fight of the 21st came upon them 
so suddenly that, too late to escape beyond range, mother and 
son sought safety in the cellar. A Confederate officer, their 
guest at the time, instead of hurrying to his command, took ad- 
vantage of the same refuge. The artillery played mercilessly on 
the building, one shot passing through the walls that stood above 
the ground. The mother had borne the rest of the bombardment 
heroically, but at this shot she fell to weeping. The Confederate 
officer, in a very unmanly way, chided her tears and taxed her 
with her weakness. The boy pertinently spoke up and bade the 
officer remember that if he had been where his duty demanded 
he would have had no opportunity to observe his mother's tears. 
The cut silenced the laggard, and the mother, nerved by her 
son's manly speech, soon recovered. All three passed safely 
through the fight. The house, though considerably battered, 
was fit for occupancy, and was afterwards quite a resort. 

The following detailed account of the engagement on the 
2 1 st is forwarded by that gallant soldier, Major G. C. Hopper, 
of the 1st Michigan: 

" On our first occupancy of the Weldon Railroad I was divi- 
sion officer of the picket, and on Saturday, the 20th of August, 
I received a summons to report to General Charles Griffin, our 
division commander. 

" He said tome:' Major, we will probably be attacked early 



— 506 — » 

to-morrow morning, and nothing so discourages an enemy as 
to find a determined resistance on the picket line. Your posi- 
tion is a long way in front, and if you give them a good fight it 
will greatly weaken them by the time they reach the breast- 
works.' 

"At three o'clock the next morning I was on the extreme 
right, and in company of one of the captains of a New York 
regiment watched the line until about seven o'clock. It was 
quite foggy and the woods in front of our right were very thick, 
and I thought that would be the point of attack. At last the 
fog cleared up and I said to the captain if they were going to 
attack us it would have been under cover of the fog, but you 
can keep a sharp look-out, though I think we will not have a 
fight this morning. 

" Our picket line extended diagonally out to the Vaughan 
Road, which we had barricaded, and at a house on the opposite 
side of the road we kept a guard. At the barricade was a 
strong detachment of the 1 18th Pennsylvania men, and in the 
woods in rear of the corn-field was a reserve of the 16th Mich- 
igan men under Captain Sutter. The men of my own regi- 
ment were in the picket pits. 

" When I left the New York pickets I rode down the line to 
the 1 1 8th pickets, and was told by the officer commanding that 
the woman occupying the house was from Philadelphia and 
wanted to come into our lines and wanted transportation for 
her things. I went in to see her and advised her to take her 
children and go inside of our lines at once, and send for her 
things afterwards. While we were talking a soldier came in 
and said they had discovered the enemy and the captain 
wanted to see me. I told the woman in case firing com- 
menced to take her children and go into the cellar, and has- 
tened outside. The captain said they were relieving the cav- 
alry pickets with one of infantry and asked if he was to fire. I 
directed him not to fire unless they left their lines and advanced 
towards us. 

" Just then one of the men said : ' There they go ! ' and look- 



— 507 — 

ing down the Vaughan Road we saw them in their lines of 
battle, and with heads depressed and backs bent making a rush 
across the road beyond the rise of ground so as not to be seen. 
We at once commenced firing, and when we did so their 
skirmish line rose up out of the meadows and potato fields 
very near to us, but we stopped them and held them until their 
lines of battle were very near to us, when I ordered my line to 
fall back to the woods and form a new line. 

" Captain Salter had brought up his men and we made a stiff 
fight, and did not move from our line until their lines of battle 
were well developed in our front. At the woods we halted 
and warmed them again, then passed through the wood, 
halted, faced about and gave them another dose ; and when 
they were quite near I ordered the men to join their regi- 
ments behind the breastworks. Our breastworks were built 
in echelon, and the enemy expected to strike Baxter's brigade 
on our right on its left flank and sweep up both sides of it. In 
rear of our brigade Captain Martin had a battery of four guns 
looking directly into the swamp. 

" I reported to General Griffin that the enemy's flank was 
towards us and that if Captain Martin half wheeled his battery 
to the right he would enfilade them after they had passed the 
point of woods. He directed me to say as much to Captain 
Martin and to give him the distance. The captain emptied his 
guns of their shells and loaded with canister, and when the 
enemy advanced past the point of woods the battery and our 
brigade poured their fire into them on their flanks, and as Bax- 
ter had been firing on them in front, they could not stand the 
pressure but broke. Some ran into the low ground and held 
up their hands and the butts of their guns in token of surren- 
der, while some made a rush backward and got away. 

"As soon as the trapped rebels offered to surrender Captain 
Daly, of the provost-guard, went out to secure them, when 
Colonel Hagood shot him and escaped. I do not know the 
facts, but it was said that after Hagood had said he would sur- 
render he drew a revolver and shot Captain Daly, seized his 



— 508 — 

horse and rode away on him. A good deal of talk was had at 
the time about Hagood's treachery, but I think no one 
knows the exact truth of the affair. 

" I was delighted with the way the pickets behaved. As 
usually when men in battle are ordered to fall back to a certain 
point, in the excitement of the fight or because the order is not 
correctly understood, they go too far ; but in this instance the 
men of Pennsylvania and Michigan obeyed orders to the letter; 
made the stubborn fight which the general desired and which, 
as I afterwards learned, he commended very highly to his 
staff." 

General Warren recovered promptly from his temporary re- 
verses. He had managed the Weldon Railroad fight with his 
usual skill, secured almost incalculable advantage, and rendered 
his holding unassailable. The enemy never recovered the 
ground they lost on the 18th of August, and from not long 
after that until the siege was over they were forced to wagon 
all the supplies the railroad had transported, for a distance of 
thirty miles. 

General Warren's operations in the vicinity of the Yellow 
Tavern were followed in a few days by General Hancock's at 
Reams Station. This, although effecting a considerable de- 
struction of the railway, resulted disastrously. The two divi- 
sions of his corps, Miles and Gibbon, were vigorously attacked 
by a superior force and only managed to save themselves, after 
a severe loss, with strenuous fighting. Afterwards, however, 
Stony Creek became the enemy's northern terminus of the Wel- 
don Railroad. In December General Warren discovered, in 
his movement to Hicks Ford, they had used the rails above 
that point to repair the road below it. 

Though the country between the plank and the railroad was 
mostly a wooded waste, along the railroad and beyond it there 
was a goodly sprinkling of well-kept farms. It was the height 
of the season and the forager, ever mindful of his opportunities, 
regardless of the imminence or even actual existence of conflict, 
risked it as before. Smith made his usual venture. The nearest 



— 509 — 




— 510 — 

house to the Yellow Tavern, occupied by Mrs. Lewis, had been 
pretty well stripped ; a patch of over ripe watermelons, all that 
remained, was scarcely worth the taking. Smith secured the 
good will of the only white inhabitant of the dwelling, a woman, 
who though she bitterly complained that the Yankees had de- 
spoiled her of everything, yet was considerately willing to dis- 
close the contents of her neighbor's larder. " There," said she, 
pointing to a house a little way off, " you will find a plentiful 
store of grape jelly, put up by Mrs. Perkins ready for market." 
Smith, not disposed to lose his opportunity for the want of a 
vessel to transport it, proposed to borrow a bucket. This was 
cheerfully conceded and Smith was quickly off upon his new 
investigation. He found the house wholly deserted — family, 
negroes, all had gone. The flight had been a recent one; all 
doors were invitingly open and the table was set for dinner. 
Others had preceded Smith, and from the second story window 
bedding, clothing, furniture and an eight-day clock were being 
inconsiderately tossed. Nor had the grape jelly escaped ob- 
servation. In a little outbuilding a soldier stood over a vessel 
ladling it out freely. The large label : " f$lg^ This is poison ! 
Look out ! " did not deter a lavish requisition on the toothsome 
article, and pots, kettles, mugs, pans, everything about the 
house, and Smith's bucket, were filled to overflowing. And 
now an Irishman, wild with delight at such a refreshing haul, 
appeared upon the scene. He first kicked over a bee-hive and 
was off with a fine comb of honey, but not without resistance. 
The bees, angered at the intrusion, made a desperate onslaught 
everywhere. The spoilsmen ceased their spoliation. The 
avalanche of household goods from the second story window 
stopped. The loaded vessels were overturned. There was a 
mad rush to escape the wicked sting of the angry bees. Smith, 
though, stood fast and with an old shirt, gathered from the 
wreck of wearing apparel, fought them manfully. 

Then the provost-marshal with his guard came along and 
when they had reached the gate the bees turned their attention 
to them. He, too. and his men were vanquished. But the 



— 5U — 



now owner of the bucket of jelly carried it off, not forgetting 
to reward the lonely female with a liberal portion for her 
patriotism. 

Infantry parapets had sprung up immediately upon the oc- 
cupancy of the Weldon Railroad position. They were soon 
made to connect strong redoubts, which with the parapets 
continued as a permanent line until abandoned upon a further 
advance to the north and west. 

The ranks of the division had been most seriously depleted. 
On the 5 th of September the 
monthly return for August showed 
that to fill the regiments to their 
maximum 6,422 men were required. 

On the 7th Captain Walters was 
detailed as the division provost- 
marshal to take the place of Cap- 
tain Eddy. 

On the nth the United States 
Military Railroad from City Point 
was completed to Yellow House, 
which had now become the univer- 
sally accepted name for the old 
Globe Tavern. The first train was 
hauled by the engine " Lieutenant- 
General U. S. Grant." Its arrival 
was greeted by shouts and cheers ; didn't know it was loaded. 
the music of numerous bands increased the enthusiasm. 

Horse-racing again found a place among the amusements. 
A level stretch of the Halifax Road furnished the track, and the 
first race between General Griffin's gray mare and the commis- 
sary of musters' gray stallion resulted in the defeat of the gen- 
eral's animal. 

On the 23d the wires flashed news of Sheridan's rout of 
Early at Fisher's Hill. The intelligence was communicated to 
the troops in the following circular. Its publication was accom- 
panied with most unusual and demonstrative excitement. 




— 512 — 

• U. S. M. T., City Point. 

September 23, 1864. 
To Major Generals Meade, Butter, and all corps commanders: 
The following despatch is just received from General Sheridan. 

U. S. Grant, Lieutenant- General. 

Head quarters Middle Department, six miles from Woodstock, 

11.30 p. m., 22, 1864. 
Lieutenant-General Grant : 

I have the honor to report that I achieved a most signal victory over the army 
of General Early at Fisher's Hill to-day. I found the rebel army posted with its 
right resting on the North Fork of the Shenandoah and extending across the 
Strausbuig Valley to North Mountain, occupying*a position which appeared almost 
impregnable. After a great deal of manoeuvring during the day General Crook's 
command was transferred to the extreme right on North Mountain and furiously 
attacked the left of the enemy's line, carrying everything 1'efore him. 

While Crook was driving the enemy in the greatest confusion and sweeping 
down behind their breastworks, the 6th and 19th Corps attacked the rebel works 
in front, and the whole rebel army appeared to be broken up. They fled in the 
utmost confusion; sixteen pieces of artillery were captured, also a great many 
caissons, artillery horses, etc., etc. • I am to-night pushing on down the valley. I 
cannot say how many prisoners I have captured, nor do I know either my own or 
the enemy's casualties. Only darkness saved the whole of Early's army from de- 
struction. My attack could not be made until four o'clock in the evening, which 
left but little daylight to operate in. 

The 1st and 3d Cavalry Divisions went down Luray Valley to clay, and if they 
push on vigorously to the main valley the result of the day's engagement will be 
still more signal. 

The victory was very complete, and a more detailed report will he made as 
soon as I can obtain the necessary details. 

P. H. Sheridan, Major- General. 

The operations of the ioth and 18th Corps on the north 
bank of the James it was anticipated would weaken the enemy's 
right, and on the 29th of September the 5th Corps was directed 
to move beyond Poplar Grove Church to secure the junction 
of two roads coming from the southwest — the Poplar Grove 
Church and Squirrel Level Roads. This junction at Peeble's 
Farm was defended by a redoubt known as Fort McRae, flanked 
by infantry parapets protected by abatis. 

If the conditions should justify it an advance was to be made 
in a northwest direction toward the Southside Railroad and 



5^3 — 



Boydton Plank Road. General Warren, with Griffin's and 
Ayres's divisions, was directed against the junction. General 
Parke was to follow him with Wilcox's and Potter's divisions, 
and both were to advance to the Boydton Plank Road. 

The movement was delayed until the 30th. On that morn- 
ing, at seven o'clock, Griffin's division moved out of its en- 
trenchments at the Yellow Tavern, destined before the sun 
should set to accomplish a good day's work. 

Bartlett's brigade, 
temporarily under the 
command of Colonel 
Gwyn, led the divi- 
sion. Colonel Her- 
ring and M aj o r 
O'Neill were both ab- 
sent on sick leave and 
the command of the 
regiment devolved 
upon Captain James 
B. Wilson. 

The route led first 

to the left, then to the 

right, crossed an open 

space, and beyond 

it entered a thick 

growth of woods, 

mostly scrubby pine. 

Through this the way 

was felt cautiously, and about two and a half miles from the 

starting-point the command halted. Here, under the personal 

direction of General Griffin, skirmishers were thrown out. Of 

the detail was one officer and twenty men from the 11 8th. 

They had not gone far when they developed the enemy's 

pickets behind light works thrown up along the road in front 

of Poplar Grove Church. After some sharp firing the enemy 

fell back to his main line. In this skirmish, gallantly pressing 
33 




CAPTAIN AND BREVET-MAJOR JAMES B, 
WILSON. 



— 5H — 

forward, Lieutenant Conahay was killed. General Griffin was be- 
side him when he fell. The regiment then advanced to the church. 

The line, at something of an angle to the enemy's works, 
was partly protected from the round shot and shell by the crest 
of a hill. After some little delay the brigade was adjusted for a 
forward movement, and, with a change of front forward on the 
right company, the regiment was in full view of a four-gun bat- 
tery and a long line of infantry parapets. As the troops left 
cover they were greeted with a heavy fire of grape and canister 
and a furious discharge of musketry. The 16th Michigan was 
on the right of the 118th. After passing over six hundred 
yards of open ground, level and entirely without protection, the 
two regiments were soon at the abatis, built of rails firmly 
planted and connected by string pieces. A passage was speedily 
cut, wide enough for eight men. Through it the 1 1 8th went 
by fours by the right flank, and the 16th Michigan by fours 
by the left flank. Captain Wilson led his regiment ; Colonel 
Welch his. They were within a few feet of each other. Both 
climbed the face of the parapet together, when a dismounted 
cavalryman levelled his carbine, fired and Welch fell, killed 
outright. Dearing's cavalry brigade, dismounted, with infantry 
held this portion of the enemy's line. As the troops with great 
enthusiasm crossed the works the enemy fled. Some prisoners 
fell into our hands. 

Fort McRae had fallen, the 20th Maine as usual again hav- 
ing an opportunity to lend its gallant aid to capture it. In this 
redoubt were the four guns seen when the brigade uncovered 
itself at the church. Their fire had been directed with special 
severity against the 16th Michigan and the Il8th. As our 
forces scaled the parapet all four guns were limbered up; three 
eluded pursuit and escaped, the fourth was captured. The 20ih 
Maine justly claim the honor of the capture, but the 1 1 8th so 
far contributed to it that one of its men, William Kilpatrick of 
" D," had mounted a wheel-horse while the struggle for the 
piece was in progress. 

The work primarily laid out for Griffin's division had been 



— 5i5 — 




- 5x6 - 

fully done. The junction of the two roads was secure; the 
redoubts and entrenchments had fallen. 

The heaviest compensation exacted in this encounter was the 
life of Colonel Welch, of the 16th Michigan. Soldiers of his 
calibre were rapidly disappearing. The bloody track from the 
Rapidan was marked by the graves of men of ability and 
promise. 

Colonel Gwyn's horse fell on him as he mounted the works. 
He was for a time severely disabled ; his leg was badly hurt 
and his old wound broke out afresh. During the rest of the 
day the brigade was commanded by Major Spear, of the 20th 
Maine. 

Sergeant- Major Courtney was wounded and his place was "at 
once supplied by the very wise selection of Sergeant Samuel 
Nugent, of" K." 

There were two substitutes of" K" whom Lieutenant Sees- 
holtz strongly suspected would disappear at the first severe 
shock of battle. He directed Nugent and Stotsenberg to 
watch them closely and at the first intimation of wavering to 
run them through with the bayonet, and he would be respon- 
sible for the consequences. Both fixed their bayonets, pre- 
pared, if necessary, to execute their instructions faithfully. 
With the first advance came a terrific discharge of grape and 
canister. For the moment everything was lost in smoke and 
dust. But it cleared away no quicker than did the doubtful 
substitutes. They disappeared as it disappeared, quietly and 
silently. No one saw them go, nor were they ever seen 
again. 

Samuel M. Jones, of" K," was seriously wounded in the face. 
Blood ran into his mouth, choking him, and he about gave it 
up. He was literally choking to death. He summoned energy 
sufficient to pull out the clots and submitted to his compan- 
ions' efforts to carry him out of danger. Two did so and left 
him to the care of the surgeons, who treated him so successfully 
that he ultimately recovered. Among the others who were 
wounded in the morning were Sergeant Roberts, of" H," who 



5i7 



exhibited marked bravery during the charge, and private 
March, of " K." Arthur Steele, of " G," was killed. The 
color-bearer, Corporal William H. Wild,* fell mortally wounded 
as he planted the standard on the entrenchments. 

It was not yet noon. The brigade went into position some 
two hundred yards beyond the captured works to await the 



mm 





COLOR-CORPORAL WILLIAM H. WILD 
PLANTING THE STANDARD ON FORT 
McREA. 



summons to still sterner duties 
yet in store for it. 

The main line of the enemy's 
Petersburg entrenchments had 
been extended to, or nearly to, 
Hatcher's Run, covering both 
the Boydton Plank Road and 
Southside Railroad. 
General Lee threw out Heth and Wilcox's divisions from the 
entrenchments as far as the Jones House. Potter had reached 
within eight hundred yards of the main line, advancing to meet 
these two divisions ; and they were at the same time advancing 
on him. He was vigorously attacked, his right outflanked and 
his division, as well as one of Wilcox's brigades, was driven 

* Corporal William H. Wild, an excellent soldier, very much respected by his 
companions, was always called "Jonathan Wild." 



- 5 i8 - 

back in some confusion. But a new line was soon established, 
which, with Griffin's line on the right, put a stop to the enemy's 
advance. 

In this brief and summary way does general history dispose 
of the operations of the afternoon of the 30th of September. 
The affair was as trying and spirited as any in which the brig- 
ade had been engaged, and the loss almost as heavy proportion- 
ately as any the regiment had hitherto suffered. 

Some misgivings of the reliability of the 9th Corps had 
found bold expression as it was seen to go forward. Lieu- 
tenant Seesholtz laid stout wager that Griffin's division 
would soon be summoned to the fore. He was continuing to 
better and better his stakes, with no takers, when rattling 
musketry and much confusion to the left and front and 
the firm voice of Captain Wilson suddenly sent the regiment 
forward. 

It was about half-past four o'clock when the line advanced. 
The need for fresh troops was so urgent that all the movements 
at this juncture, forward and by the flank, were conducted at 
the double-quick. Troops were met retreating on the run. 
The forward was soon changed to the left flank, and it had 
scarcely begun when loud directions faced the column about 
and moved it by the right flank. The advance that had driven 
Potter's right was vigorously continued. The seizure of a crest, 
that faced a wood through which ran a roadway down which 
the enemy moved with ease, alone averted the fate that had 
befallen Potter. Here the line was established just in time to 
hold the enemy to the timber. He was somewhat disorganized 
from his pursuit, but still in condition to stand and deliver 
wicked and destructive punishment. 

On the left of the 118th was the 20th Maine; on the right 
the 1 6th Michigan. The belief that some of the 9th Corps 
division still lingered on the same ground over which part 
of it had been driven, the appearance here and there of men 
dressed partly in blue, created the erroneous impression that 
our men were still in front. In spite of the fact that the troops 



— 519 — 

were being fired upon with telling severity, the officers in all 
directions called loudly and earnestly not to fire. The men 
knew better, and they also knew that in a moment, with such 
punishment and no resistance, the line could not be preserved. 
Despite the command, the fire opened just in time to save a 
disastrous break. 

It seems scarcely credible but from the crest to the wood was 
barely one hundred feet. Yet for full thirty minutes our force 
in the open, wholly without cover, the enemy sheltered by the 
timber, withstood his terrible fire and eventually dislodged him. 

A shell burst in the right of the 20th Maine and ten or a 
dozen men dropped. The crest was so high that the artillery 
in the rear, to avoid the line holding it, fired at such an eleva- 
tion that their shot flew as innocently over the enemy as they 
did over our own people. It was a stiff, hard, stand-up fight. 
There were no supports in view. Exhausted ammunition was 
supplied from the dead and wounded. Diminished by casual- 
ties the line had shrunk to scarcely more than skirmish pro- 
portions. It was becoming alarmingly sensitive. Wavering, 
hesitancy, doubt was keenly apparent. Officers shouted words 
of stimulation and encouragement. The color-bearer fell; 
Seesholtz seized the colors and bore them forward a pace or 
two when a shot through the wrist disabled him. Captain 
Wilson, who had been anxiously watching a temerity which 
was exposing the standard to the peril of capture, picked up 
the color himself and placed it with Thomas Crealy, of" C," a 
trustworthy man, bade him hold it where it ought to be and 
not bear it forward until directed. 

And then amid it all General Griffin came along, resolute, 
heroic, impressive, with assuring words and comforting prom- 
ises of help. The wavering lines stiffened ; strong men were 
strengthened and the weak made strong. From now on it was 
his fight, and his presence in inspiring the men was almost 
equal to the promised support of his batteries. 

Mink, the one-armed hero of wide artillery fame, whom the 
general had instructed to push right up to the front, was ready 



— 5 2 ° — 

to rush in with his battery. " It's as bad as putting artillery on 
the skirmish line," cried Mink; "but throw back your three or 
four left companies, sir," addressing the commanding officer of 
the 1 1 8th, "and let me get a section in there and I will clear 
the woods for you." Back went the companies ; out went the 
guns. The commands : " Double shot with canister and fire 
by sections," were run together with such rapidity that there 
was scarce interval for execution. But there was execution, 
grievous execution, too. At such a range the stoutest soldiers 
could not stand the punishment, and the promise to clear the 
woods was soon redeemed. Mink arrived with the close of the 
day. As the daylight ebbed the fight had subsided and with 
darkness had ceased entirely. 

Captain Wilson felt at the close of the engagement that he 
must find some way to get forward a skirmish line. At one 
spot the wood came to a point and then receded again. Here 
stood a great oak not sixty feet from our front. To this point 
the captain pushed out. He threw his hand around the tree 
and felt upon the other side a human form. He pulled it 
around and there stood a tall, gaunt North Carolinian, so great 
in statue that he towered giant-like above him. In the rush 
his troops had made the North Carolinian had gone too far 
forward, and when the new engagement opened he felt his only 
safety lay in pinning himself fast to the tree, which he seemed 
to have done most effectually. Wilson dragged him back to 
the line the very picture of a well-scared man. He seemed to 
think the term Yankee was one of reproach and its use would 
insure him harsh treatment. He addressed his captors as "you 
Northerners," and was particular to explain that he had never 
spoken of the Union soldiers by any other name. This was 
what the captain secured beside a position for his skirmishers. 

The 16th Michigan was a regiment of unusual strength for 
this period of the war. Its ranks had been filled by assign- 
ments of men whose terms had not expired, who belonged 
originally to regiments mustered out at the end of their three 
years' service. A gun of strange construction had been issued 



521 



to a portion of this regiment to be tested in the first engage- 
ment. The piece had two triggers. Each trigger exploded a 
separate cartridge ; the one farthest from the breech first, the 
other afterwards. At least that is what it was intended to do. 
As a fact, the explosion of the first cartridge always ignited the 
second and sometimes exploded the barrel. Such was the re- 
sult of the test at Peeble's Farm, and the men of the 16th 
Michigan who had been so unfortunate as to be allotted the 
new guns were seen mov- 
ing along the dead and 
wounded replacing them 
with a weapon they knew 
all about. 

Among the losses other 
than those previously re- 
ferred to were Captain 
Charles M. Young, 
Company K, mortally 
wounded; Lieutenants 
John Scott, Company A, 
and Henry Conner, Com- 
pany C, wounded ; Ser- 
geant George W. Haines, 
of Company F, was shot 
in the head, and privates 
Jacob Swartz, Benjamin 
I. Stevens, Alexander 
McCay and Thomas Hart, of Company F, were killed. 

The regiment had moved out in the morning with an aggre- 
gate of 161. It returned at eleven o'clock in the evening to 
the same position it had left with fifty-six less, all of whom had 
been either killed or wounded. With this severe loss, the con- 
duct of officers and men had been most commendable, and 
Captain Wilson, for his courageous and skilful management 
throughout the whole affair, had won a lasting reputation for 
fitness and capacity as a commanding officer. He was brevetted 




CAPTAIN CHARLES M. YOUNG. 



— c 22 

to a majority for " gallant service at Peeble's Farm." The fight 
of the morning became known as Peeble's Farm and that of 
the afternoon as Pegram's Farm. 

On the morning of the ist of October the division returned 
to the position which it had sought the day before and began 
the construction of works laid out for the permanent lines. 
These works were maintained until the operations about Peters- 
burg were concluded. Near this vicinity the line of the 6th Corps 




MORNING AFTER THE BATTLE OF POPLAR GROVE CHURCH. 

was afterwards formed for the final assault. And it was here- 
abouts that Fort Fisher and the Signal Tower were subsequently 
constructed. Here the regiment remained, except during the 
few days the corps was over Hatcher's Run with Hancock on 
his Roydton Plank Road expedition, until the 6th Corps re- 
lieved the 5th in early December. 

The work had been in progress some few hours when Gen- 
eral Warren appeared with his staff. It had not advanced with 
the expedition the general conceived it should. He vented his 



523 



opinion explicitly. " I never saw," said he, " a lazier set of men 
in my life ; they are good for nothing but fight. I could take 
my staff and cut down more trees than the whole brigade." 
Evidently intended as an indirect compliment for the valorous 
deeds of the day before. The happy reference to fight was an 
incentive to activity and, for a time at least, the work made 
more rapid progress. 

Captain Joseph Ashbrook received his appointment as ord- 
nance officer of the 
division while it was 
under the marching 
orders which cul- 
minated in the en- 
gagements of Pee- 
ble's and Pegram's 
Farms. It was a 
critical period to 
thrust upon an offi- 
cer, wholly unfa- 
miliar with the 
trust, such delicate 
and important du- 
ties. Ashbrook 
though was a man 
well equipped for 
any service and 
proved himself fully 
equal to the require- 
ments of his new position. An interview between him and 
General Warren illustrates a pleasant side of the character of 
that distinguished officer. Ashbrook's predecessor had been 
the senior ordnance officer of the corps, and as such received 
orders from corps head-quarters relating to the entire corps. 
Although Ashbrook was not the ranking officer, similar orders 
continued to be sent to him. Late on the night of the action 
at Peeble's Farm he received a very important communication 




SERGEANT SAMUEL NUGENT. 



— 524 



which indicated that the entire corps must be supplied with 
ammunition preparatory to an anticipated engagement in the 
morning. Not fully comprehending the order and doubting 
his ability to execute it without fuller instructions, he decided, 
although it was in the middle of the night, to go to corps head- 
quarters and consult the ever-obliging Lieutenant-Colonel 
Locke, the assistant adjutant-general. The head-quarters were 
in a small house on the Peeble's Farm. Groping his way about 

the house in the 
dark he blundered 
into the room occu- 
pied by General 
Warren. To dis- 
turb the slumbers 
of a major-general 
commanding a corps 
without warrant, in 
the middle of the 
night, after a hard 
day's fight, was not 
likely in those times 
to add to the amen- 
ities of the occasion. 
The general sat bolt 
up in his cot, doubt- 
less aroused by the 
intrusion. Ash- 
brook, much em- 
barrassed by his mistake, advanced and apologized, express- 
ing his great regret at having awakened the general, and 
explaining that he was looking for Colonel Locke. . This 
was met by the kind inquiry: " What is wanted?" When he 
was told, he entered into an explanation of the order and what 
was required, and bade his visitor good-night. Ashbrook re- 
tired with a very pleasant sense of the general's kindness and 
courtesy. 




HENRY H. HODGES, COMPANY D. 



5^5 — 



On the 5th of October Colonel Herring returned from his 
sick-leave and the following day relieved Captain Wilson and 
resumed command of the regiment. On the 8th 9th and 10th 
he was detailed as officer of the outposts. With General 
Avres's division pickets, the line was advanced almost halt a 
mile- a private house (Davis's) was destroyed, and then in the 
evening the line was withdrawn to its original position. 
" The Uth was the Presidential election day. Active ballot- 
in- went on throughout Pennsylvania regiments, resulting in 
overwhelming Republican majorities. Most of the States 
voted in November, the election that year falling on the 8th. 
The Rev Theodore Gerrish, of the 20th Maine, in his work, 
"A Private's Reminiscences of the Civil War," reports the vote 
of that regiment as 137 for Abraham Lincoln and thirteen for 
George B. McClellan. 

Colonel Gwyn's commission as brevet brigadier-general to 
date from September 30th, was received on the 17th of October. 
He had left for home a few days before on a twenty-days leave. 
Colonel Gregory, of the 91st Pennsylvania, was at the same 
time honored with a like commission. 

' From the 19th to the 27th of October General Griffin was 
absent, the command of the division devolving upon General 
Bartlett and the brigade on Colonel Herring. 

The publication of the order on the 20th announcing Gen- 
eral Sheridan's overwhelming rout of Early at Cedar Creek in 
the Shenandoah Valley on the 19th of October was followed 
bv enthusiastic demonstration and great rejoicing. 

Horse-racing, a sport that at all favorable opportunities found 
an active patronage, was about this time forbidden in general 
orders from army head-quarters. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE HATCHER'S RUN OF OCTOBER, I 864 HICKSFORD AND BELLE- 
FIELD, WELDON RAILROAD, RAID DABNEY's MILLS. 

TE determined to attain what 
preceding expeditions 
had failed to accomplish, 
the Hatcher's Run and 
Boydton Plank Road ex- 
pedition of the 27th of 
October was of greater 
magnitude and more com- 
prehensive design. It re- 
sulted in Hancock gal- 
lantly relieving himself 
from a serious pressure 
near Burgess's Tavern; 
in Crawford's failure in the dense and gloomy timber to reach 
out to Hancock ; in Hancock to feel in to Crawford ; in Grif- 
fin's development of the enemy's extreme right; and ultimately 
everybody's return again to their old, familiar places in the line 
of the siege. 

The column — Gregg's cavalry division, the 5th and 9th Corps, 
and two divisions of the 2d Corps — was from thirty to forty thou- 
sand strong. The three corps commanders commanded their 
respective corps. The entrenchments were thinned out to a 
skirmish strength. Miles's division held the Petersburg front 
from the Appomattox to Battery 24, half-way between the Je- 
rusalem Plank Road and the Weldon Railroad. General Park 
assigned fifteen hundred men to hold his entrenchments, Gen- 
eral Warren twenty-five hundred men, under General Baxter, 
to hold his. (526) 




— 527 — 

On the 26th General Griffin resumed command of his di- 
vision, and General Bartlett and Colonel Herring returned to 
their respective stations. 

The language of General Warren's official report of these 
operations is strikingly suggestive of the loss of trained and 
experienced soldiers in the casualties of the late campaigns. 
He says : " The command [5th Corps] started as directed about 
4 a. m. on the 27th. It consisted, first, of the 1st Division, com- 
manded by Brigadier-General Griffin, 4,707 strong, of which 
1,247 were ignorant of the manual, and 2,803 had never fired 
off a musket; second, of the 2d Division, commanded by Brig- 
adier-General Ayres, 4,704 strong, of which 104 were ignorant 
of the manual, and 812 had never fired off a musket; third, of 
two brigades of the 3d Division, commanded by General Craw- 
ford, of which 298 were ignorant of the manual, and 298 had 
never fired off a musket." 

General Griffin's division led the corps ; General Gregory's 
brigade — his regiment, the 91st Pennsylvania, had been trans- 
ferred from the 1st Brigade — the division. 

General Warren had issued instructions to start at 5.30. The 
hour was not deemed early enough by the commanding gen- 
eral, and was subsequently changed to 4 o'clock. It began to 
rain slightly at 4.45, and, with a clouded sky, the morning was 
dark and it was difficult in the woods to preserve the con- 
nections. They were soon broken between the brigades, and 
parts of the column were badly confused and mixed up. 
Referring to this General Warren says: "I think it quite im- 
practicable, from this and previous experience, to move troops 
in the dark over any but the broadest and plainest roads, unless 
they are previously familiar with the route." At five and a half 
o'clock it was light enough to see and the head of the column, 
which had passed through an open country beyond Fort Cum- 
mings, began to move into the woods beyond our entrench- 
ments. The route indicated was to be by a wood road to the 
Duncan Road, and thence a road was to be hunted up that led 
to Hatcher's Run above Armstrong's mill. The movement was 



- 528 - 

slow, obstructions that lined the roadway were cleared away, 
but generally the direction trended too far southwesterly. All 
the roads ran north and south. Hatcher's Run was to the 
westward, and setting about to cut a road through the woods, 
in a half mile General Warren brought the head of his corps 
out on the so-called Duncan Road just south of the Clements 
House. Here a road ran west, along which the column ad- 
vanced, striking the enemy's skirmishers at nine o'clock. Gen- 
eral Griffin immediately formed his 2d — General Gregory's — 
Brigade in two lines, in the woods on the left of the road ; the 
1 88th New York battalion and 91st Pennsylvania in the front 
line, the 187th New York battalion and 155th Pennsylvania in 
the second line. Skirmishers from the 91st Pennsylvania were 
thrown out in front, and from the 155th Pennsylvania on the 
left flank. The brigade advanced under quite a lively fire until 
it arrived within 100 or 200 yards of the enemy's works, where 
a portion of the line encountered the slashings of woods and 
were exposed to a sharp fire from the enemy in his works, 
which were found to be difficult to reach on account of the 
fallen timber and a strong abatis.* In this operation General 
Gregory lost about 100 killed and wounded. A line was es- 
tablished and temporary entrenchments thrown up." Later in 
the day two regiments from Bartlett's brigade were sent to 
strengthen the left, connecting on the right with Gregory's 
brigade, and their left resting on a creek. The rest of Bartlett's 
brigade was formed in line of battle in the rear, on the road 
crossed by the advance in the morning.* 

Upon the other side of the creek was a work of huge pro- 
portions ; it was, in truth, a frowning battlement. So firm and 
formidable was it that ignorant of the instructions to " remain 
confronting them (the works) until the operations on the left 
drew off the enemy," the men were sullen with the thoughts of 
other lives for nought and gaping wounds for nothing. 

No other task fell to Griffin's lot until the withdrawal, except 
to thunder away with his musketry as a guide to Crawford, 
* General Griffin's Official Report. MSS. 



529 



who, with his two brigades and the Maryland brigade of Ayres, 
was floundering without direction in the pathless woods upon 
the other side of Hatcher's Run, iff his effort to support Han- 
cock and turn the flank of the v, orks Griffin fronted. The 
forest was so dense that the firing from Hancock's heavy fight 
near Burgess's Mill, scarce three miles off, was not heard by 
Crawford's column. General Warren, who was with it while 
the battle was at its height, reports that he did not hear the 
sounds of the engage- 
ment. A body of the 
enemy drifted into our 
lines and had captured 
a staff-officer bearing 
a communication, but 
themselves surrender- 
ed when convinced by 
him where they were. 
Other officers of the 
staff lost late in the 
afternoon remained 
out all night, awaiting 
daylight before they 
could find their way 
back. 

General Hancock 
came back disap- 
pointed, and General 
Crawford, of no use 

where he was, was withdrawn. General Hancock passed the 
regiment on his return a hatless soldier. His clouded, angry 
brow and hatless head made his presence on that occasion 
memorable. 

The enemy's cavalry pursued the tired and straggling men 

who were in the rear of Crawford's and Hancock's retiring 

column, and drove in across the run the small mounted force 

which had been left to protect them. General Bartlett's brig- 

34 




FIRST LIEUTENANT THOS. F. KELLY. 



— 530 — 

ade was formed to check this advance. The enemy's line 
of battle was in plain view, and the duty of checking it was 
allotted to Colonel Herring, with the 118th and 1st Michi- 
gan. He essayed to do the work with a skirmish line, and 
called to the 1st Michigan for volunteers for skirmish duty- 
Promptly the whole regiment responded. " I don't want 
you all," said Herring, and taking what he needed he moved 
forward, the enemy with their usual yell showing a disposition 
to advance ; some excellent marksmanship by the skirmishers 
induced a contrary action, and the enemy withdrew. In this 
affair Antone Huver and Francis Mullen, of " K," were 
wounded slightly. 

As the rear guard of the corps, the brigade retired by the 
road out through the woods back to its old quarters, and the 
deeds and doings of the 27th and 28th of October, 1864, were 
left to history and criticism. 

November jogged leisurely along until, admonished by its 
occasional frosts, the men set about to comfortably house 
themselves. They were soon reminded of the insecurity of 
their tenancy, and shortly afterwards peaceably submitted to a 
quiet eviction. 

On one of these November days a dearth of supplies induced 
a member of " K," company's mess, to volunteer to hunt up a 
friend in the 99th Pennsylvania, then serving with the 2d Corps, 
whom by some intuition he felt was better provided and whose 
generosity he knew would prompt him to share his portion with 
his more needy fellows. Reaching the confines of the corps to 
which the 99th was attached, he politely addressed an officer 
whom he met, inquiring its whereabouts. " Right over there," 
was the reply, "but have you a pass?" the officer continued. 
" I have not," responded the soldier. " All right," said the of- 
ficer, " I will give you one," turning towards his quarters as if 
to execute his purpose. He had no such intention ; his liberal 
proposition to furnish the pass was to throw the soldier off his 
guard and prevent the escape which would doubtless have been 
attempted had what was to follow been known or suspected, 



— 53i — 

and his turning about was to seize the first non-commissioned 
officer available, and with him execute his real intent. A ser- 
geant was close at hand, and with a " Here, Sergeant, arrest 
this man," from the officer, our straggling soldier of the Il8th 
was hustled off to the guard house. It was more than con- 
finement he was to suffer; humiliating punishment awaited 
him. Two uprights ten feet high, supporting a cross-piece of 
twice that length, stood in front of the guard quarters. The 
" bony horse" was the most suggestive appellation by which 
this contrivance was usually known. Two other delinquents 
were already astraddle it. To their company our soldier was 
consigned. Feeling keenly the disgrace he did not deserve, as 
he sat astride his steed he painfully meditated dire revenge. 
But his muttered curses and smothered anger had not clouded 
his wits, and he watched carefully an opportunity to escape. 
He was unknown, and if he was once off and successful in 
eluding pursuit he was free forever, at least from punishment 
for the supposed offence. 

Where the soldier had lighted was within the limits of a 
regimental cavalry encampment, and the wooden horse he 
strode was attached to the regimental guard house. What 
regiment it was he did not ascertain, nor care to. The beats 
of the sentries covered about twenty paces. An officer's horse 
was picketed but a short distance from the guard house, and a 
wood a little distance beyond the horse afforded cover, and with 
half a chance he could reach it. At all events he tried. Slip- 
ping quietly from his perch, passing between the two sentries, 
he made vigorously for the picketed horse. " Halt or I'll fire " 
had no terrors for him, and with his captors in hot pursuit — 
they couldn't fire, because he quickly had the horse between 
them and himself — the soldier was soon within the wood. From 
there to the breastworks was but a stride or so, and over them 
like a flash he was soon struggling and plunging among the 
slashings in their front. So were his pursuers, but he had the 
best of it. Crawling and crouching into all sorts of crevices, 
contorting himself into all imaginable shapes, he managed to 



— 532 — 

successfully baffle a pursuit that was persistently pressed for 
full two hours. The imprecations of disappointment from his 
pursuers, as unravelling each new tangle they were still unsuc- 
cessful, gradually died out and the soldier ventured to find his 
way out of the slashings. The burnt bark from the pines had 
blackened his face and hands so that he was not recognizable. 
First fording a stream where a corduroy bridgeway over it was 
cautiously guarded, and then sneaking and dodging through 
camp after camp, he ultimately reached his own to be 
repelled by his messmates. He soon secured satisfactory 
identification, and regaling his companions with a story of 
his adventure, was fed to repletion from the stores which 
during his absence had been fully replenished. 

The notice to quit the recently constructed quarters, not at 
all anticipated, came hastily and without premonition. Captain 
Wilson, returning from a tour of outpost duty, braced and stif- 
fened by the nipping air of a sharp December morning, dis- 
covered a couple of officers, strangers, complacently scanning 
the interior of his comfortably-appointed household, and, 
catching the remark "that these would suit amazingly," 
was prompted to inquire the meaning of this apparently 
rude intrusion. The explanation was quickly forthcoming. 
The 6th Corps, back from its valley campaign, had been or- 
dered to occupy that portion of the lines in the keeping of 
the 5th. 

The regiment to which these unexpected visitors of the cap- 
tain belonged was assigned to the locality held by the 1 1 8th, 
and they had taken an early opportunity for house-hunting. 
They hoped with this explanation the captain would overlook 
the intrusion and be good enough when he should receive the 
instructions, which had only happened to reach them a little 
more expeditiously, to vacate as graciously as he could in favor 
of those appointed to relieve him. 

What had been said had been stated correctly, and the inter- 
view had scarce terminated before the orders were at hand 
which ultimately started the corps off on its famous mission of 



— 533 — 

railway destruction to Hicksford, on the Meherrin river, forty- 
miles to the southward of Petersburg, well down toward the 
North Carolina line. 

The troops previously withdrawn from the works were located 
beforehand in the vicinity of the Gurley House that they might 
make a simultaneous start. The command, consisting beside 
the 5th Corps of Gregg's cavalry and Mott's infantry division, 
all under General Warren, moved at six o'clock on the morn- 
ing of the 7th of December. There were also attached to it 
four batteries of artillery and a canvas pontoon train 250 feet 
long, in charge of three companies of engineers. The infantry, 
with Crawford leading, then Griffin, then Ayres and then Mott, 
took the Jerusalem Plank Road. Each division was accom- 
panied by a battery and half its ambulances. The men carried 
sixty rounds of ammunition and four days' rations on their 
persons. Two days' rations and forty rounds more of ammu- 
nition were in the wagons. 

The bridge over Warwick's Swamp was found to be de- 
stroyed. Fifteen minutes sufficed to construct a temporary 
structure for the infantry, but considerable delay was involved 
in strengthening it for the trains. 

Generals Griffin and Ayres reached the Nottaway between 2 
and 4 p. m. and bivouacked on its left bank for the night. A 
pontoon bridge 140 feet long was thrown across the stream, 
over which Generals Gregg and Crawford crossed, bivouacking 
beyond as far as Sussex Court-House. It had rained heavily 
from eight and a half o'clock until after dark, then cleared, 
clouding up again after midnight. 

On the morning of the 8th, at two o'clock, Generals Griffin 
and Ayres began to cross and were both over by half-past four, 
following Crawford, who started from the Court-House at four, 
to Jarrett's Station on the Weldon Railroad. All the while it 
rained heavily, ceasing after daylight, having caused no injury 
to the roads. 

The enemy made his appearance at the railroad crossing of 
the Nottaway, where General Gregg destroyed a trestle bridge 



— 534 — 

160 feet long, and worked in a regiment between General Gregg 
and General Crawford's right. He was driven from both posi- 
tions by the cavalry. By sunset all the trains were up and parked ; 
the troops which had arrived some time before having mean- 
while had no opportunity to cook, and secure a needed rest. 

The cavalry had partially destroyed the railway from the 
Nottaway to Jarrett's Station. Crawford's, Ayres's and Griffin's 
divisions completed its destruction to below the station by 
moonlight, continuing the work until after midnight. 

The work of destruction was resumed on the morning of the 
9th by forming line of battle on the railway, each division de- 
stroying all in its front and then moving to the left alternately. 
The entire distance destroyed was some seventeen or eighteen 
miles. The ties were burned, the rails heated and in most 
places much bent and twisted. The work was so effectually 
done that it was not deemed likely the road would be relaid. 
The rails were much worn and many had been straightened 
out and brought from roads previously destroyed by burning 
and bending. These generally cracked when submitted to this 
final process of destruction. 

The cavalry cleared the enemy out of the way to the south- 
ward and picketed the roads to the north and east. General 
Griffin relieved General Mott's division, taking charge of the 
trains on the morning of the 9th. 

A force with artillery was met and driven away from Three 
Creeks and the fire extinguished from the bridge which the 
enemy had attempted to destroy. Crossing a dismounted force 
by 4 p. m., Gregg had possession of Bellfield and had driven 
the enemy all across the Mcherrin. A sixty feet trestle over 
a branch of Three Creeks and another of 100 feet long over 
the main stream — both old truss frames shored up from below 
— were burned and the destruction of the railway completed to 
Bellfield. 

At Hicksford, on the south side of the Mcherrin, there were 
three forts or batteries, connected by rifle pits, manned with a 
considerable force. It was impracticable to force a crossing, 



— 535 — 
and not practicable with the limited supplies — much of that 




TEARING UP THE WELDON RAILROAD. 

carried on the person had been already eaten up — to attempt 



— 536 — 

to turn the position. Without dislodging the enemy and gain- 
ing possession of the opposite bank it was not possible to de- 
stroy the bridge over the Meherrin. It was left standing. All 
the bridges and the railway track from the Nottaway to that 
point having been destroyed, orders were issued for the return 
on the following morning. 

The regiment worked hard at the rails and ties until mid- 
night passed and the moon was gone. It was nearly morn- 
ing, though, before the ground designated for the bivouac, 
in the vicinity of the trains, was reached, and but a few hours 
were left until daylight for restful sleep. The field selected, 
overgrown with dead sage brush, after the morning broke, was 
discovered to be on fire, and the roaring flames, making rapid 
headway, drove the soldiers hurriedly to a neighboring wood. 
The heat was greater than could be comfortably borne, and the 
regiment was moved to a potato patch beyond, and none too 
soon, for the fire swept wickedly through the timber, speedily 
destroying all the dead leaves and undergrowth in its path, 
rendering the woods untenantable for man or beast. 

The light stuff on the surface soon burnt out, but the flames 
lingered about a large brush heap which would not yield so 
readily to destruction. Two women from a neighboring farm- 
house stood intently gazing on this burning brush pile. Their 
countenances bore an anxious watchfulness which to the sol- 
dier, eager for an opportunity to plunder, waiting patiently for 
a chance to satisfy the longings of a ravenous appetite, indi- 
cated that within the rapidly disappearing brush was some- 
thing worthy of investigation. 

The eyes of all the regiment were upon the scene. Sergeant 
Paschall, of " E," was promptly on the spot, and his return for 
tools and assistance indicated a discovery. Paschall, who re- 
turned with two companions and an axe, was closely watched. 
The sound of blows stoutly administered, as if upon a barrel 
head, soon followed. This was a sufficient indication that spoil 
of some sort had been found and, with simultaneous rush, the 
entire regiment broke for the timber. The rush carried every- 



— 537 — 

thing before it, even to the brush heap. Paschall meanwhile 
had succeeded in knocking in the head of a barrel of sorghum 
molasses which had been concealed by the loose boughs and 
twigs. The eager and expectant crowd pressed closely upon 
him, and, heedless of his assurance that he would see it fairly 
distributed, continued to press so closely as he sat astride the 
barrel head that finally barrel, Paschall, molasses and all rolled 
in sweet confusion on the ground. 

No such sight as Paschall had ever presented itself. The 
tarred and feathered abolitionist of the olden time was but 
a circumstance to him. Covered with the sticky, mucky stuff, 
he rolled over and over on the sooty ground, and from 
head to foot, hair, clothing, everything was a mass of sooty 
blackness. His most trusted friend scarce knew him, and be- 
fore he could conceal himself the whole brigade indulged in 
boisterous shouts at his expense. If Paschall had been let 
alone all would have been well, a bountiful supply of a very 
desirable diet secured, and Paschall himself would have es- 
caped the very disgusting condition into which his impatient 
comrades had placed him. But Paschall was not the only vic- 
tim. Tom Gabe, of '* K," dipping his cup into the tempting 
syrup, was forced into it and came away only a little better off 
than Paschall. Many others were more or less involved. 
The molasses raid was long remembered. It served happily 
to enliven arduous occupations, and even those who suffered 
individually, when relieved of their discomfiture, were willing 
to have borne the ills they suffered to have contributed to the 
amusement of their tired companions. 

At Bellefield, before the cavalry entered, an entertainment 
had been in progress that drew together a goodly company of 
gay society. The male guests were mostly of the army, and 
at a warning of the approach of their foes had hurriedly dis- 
appeared. In the deserted house of the host the piano still 
lay invitingly open. An officer, nimble with keys, entertained 
for some hours a rollicksome crowd, wild with the novelty of the 
situation. Ultimately a few heartless vandals consigned the 
instrument to destruction. 



- 538 - 

The return march began at 7 a. m. on the 10th. General 
Griffin's division guarding the trains, followed General Irvin 
Gregg's brigade of cavalry sent ahead to clear the way and 
watch the side roads. General Mott's division followed Griffin. 
General Ayres and General Crawford brought up the rear. 
The column moved by the road leading to Sussex 
Court-House, and the division halted for the night near that 
place, having marched a distance of twenty-one miles. A 
storm of sleet which had lasted through the night before caused 
men and animals much discomfort. The icicles, before they 
began to lessen with advancing day, presented a scene of win- 
ter grandeur almost unknown to the latitude. But with the 
moisture from the dripping as they thawed out in the warmth 
of noonday, the sentiment of this winter picture was absorbed 
in the annoyance of uncomfortable realities. 

The soldier detailed to the charge of Colonel Herring's pack- 
horse had a sorry time of it. The load it bore was of larger 
proportions than that borne by such animals generally. The 
packing was done hurriedly, as the movement was urgent. It 
was early in the morning, and the frosty night had frozen 
everything stiff The tent was rolled so unshapely that the 
load, packed poorly, was bulky and did not balance. As the 
day advanced the ground thawed, the mud deepened and the 
animal plunged, halted and hesitated, until finally he stopped, 
stuck hard fast, immovable. The man urged, coaxed, beat and 
swore, but to no avail. Battalion after battalion swept by, 
until at last all the infantry had gone. Anxiety gave way to 
fear, appeals for assistance were in vain. Then a battery or 
two passed on a trot. Some of the artillerymen generously 
suggested " to get out of this, or you and your old horse are 
gone, sure." At last there came a really kind, good man, and 
of the artillery, too. The old horse was of no great value, he 
had ceased to be useful except as a drudge and another would 
be readily found to replace him. The value was in the furni- 
ture, tackle and apparel. So the batteryman considerately of- 
fered to carry them. He cut the straps — there was no time for 



— 539 — 

anything else — and loaded everything on a limber chest. Our 
soldier, so gladdened with the thought of saving at least the 
colonel's traps, wholly forgot to inquire the name of the man 
or the designation of his battery, and, of course, the man never 
told him. Still hopeful that, relieved of his burden, the horse 
might be persuaded along, he lingered to urge him. He stuck 
to it manfully until an officer about the rear of the whole com- 
mand ordered him to abandon the animal. Satisfied that such 
authority was a sufficient immunity, he gladly obeyed, and 
then, for the first time, the difficulty presented itself as to how 
the rest of his charge should be accounted for. He suddenly 
remembered he knew neither the artilleryman nor his battery. 

Men in such employment had but little sympathy ; the 
colonel's man was no exception. He was missed and did not 
rejoin the regiment until the morning afterwards. Entering 
camp without the animal and its burden, he was hooted, jeered 
and twitted. But this was nothing to what awaited him. His 
explanation went for naught. What had gone was really a 
serious loss, one not to be replaced except by communication 
with Washington, and that was not always practicable. A 
few days in the guard-house and a return to the ranks was the 
punishment. The latter the soldier accepted cheerily, as his de- 
tail had been forced upon him and he had obeyed it reluctantly. 

The enemy followed up the cavalry to the junction of the 
Halifax Road and the road the infantry followed to the Court- 
House. General Gregg kept the Halifax Road to protect the 
left flank, and the enemy, continuing after the infantry, were 
held in check by General Chamberlain with the 1st Brigade of 
our division and afterwards by General Crawford. Their artil- 
lery, however, did not cross the Three Creeks where the bridge 
had been destroyed. General Gregg was unmolested by any 
force in his rear, but was harassed by cavalry and artillery near 
Jarrett's Station, which he forced back and came on without loss. 

The division moved at 7 a. m. on the 12th, guarding the pon- 
toon train. At Freeman's Ford, on the Nottaway, it laid a 
pontoon bridge, crossed the river and went into bivouac beside 



— 540 — 



the Jerusalem Plank Road, two miles from the left bank of the 
stream. Here a junction was made with General Potter's di- 
vision, of the 9th Corps, which, relieved temporarily from the 
Petersburg entrenchments by General Wheaton, of the 6th, 
had been sent to General Warren's support in consequence 
of a well-accredited report prevailing that General A. P. Hill 
had been despatched to attack General Warren. 

Throughout the 
entire route scarce a 
man was to be found 
among the inhabi- 
tants. Houses were 
deserted or at most 
contained only help- 
less women and chil- 
dren. There were, 
though, indications 
that men had been 
lurking in the woods. 
\ >> The dead bodies of 
soldiers were found 
along the roadside ; 
in one case, it was 
said, with the throat 
cut, and other in- 
levi teal. stances were re- 

ported of still more revolting barbarities. The stories of these 
cruelties aroused a spirit of vengeance, and in retaliation the 
torch was applied to almost every house along the route. The 
efforts of the officers to stop this incendiarism were but par- 
tially successful. 

During the night of the I ith it cleared and the weather set 
in bitter cold. In the morning the roads were frozen stiff, so 
that the trains moved easily, but the men, with feet sore and 
blistered, some even barefooted, suffered severely. 

Captain Ashbrook, ordnance officer, with Nugent, his ser- 




— 54i — 

geant, was riding with the trains. Two ladies with mournful 
countenance stood in the doorway of a house by the road- 
side. Ashbrook rode towards them to inquire the cause and 
to proffer his services if it were within his power to relieve their 
manifest distress. They pointed to the neighborhood of the barn, 
where a dozen or more soldiers pursued with felonious purpose a 
goodly flock of turkeys, all that was left of animal food of the 




OFTEN THE CASE. 

much-depleted household supplies. No suggestion was needed. 
The captain's gallantry was aroused and he spurred for the 
pilfering crowd. His eye fell first upon his own cook, just seiz- 
ing the finest of the birds. Returning to the ladies he apolo- 
gized for his failure and regretted his inability to cope singly 
with so great a force. Shortly afterwards a fine roast turkey 
graced the captain's mess. 

The division moved at 7 A. m. and, having marched a dis- 



— 542 — 

tance of thirteen miles, at 3 p. m. arrived at its destination near 
the Jerusalem Plank Road, where, under orders for a lengthy 
stop, winter quarters were again constructed. 

No infantry force was seen during the expedition except 
that entrenched on the other side of the Meherrin. The citi- 
zens, however, reported General A. P. Hill's corps as detached 
from the main army and likely to attack, but he did not appear. 

The design of the expedition was successfully accomplished. 
The railroad, so destroyed as to be unavailable for present 
operations, was really made permanently useless, as the enemy 
must have been quite convinced that its reconstruction would 
only invite similar demonstrations. 

Beside the work performed the distance travelled in the six 
days was about one hundred miles. General Warren, satisfied 
as well with results as the conduct of his troops, took occasion 
to make mention of them and their work in a congratulatory 
order.* 

" It is not believed the enemy picked up any prisoners from 
straggling, except a few who became drunk to complete pros- 

* Head-quarters 5TH Army Corps, 
Army of the Potomac, 
General Orders No. 65. . ( December 13, 1864. 

The command having returned from its late expedition, after accomplishing 
successfully its mission — the destruction of the Weldon Railroad as far as I licks- 
ford — making forced marches during six days and nights, in the most inclement 
weather, the Major-General commanding considers it his duty to express to his 
division commanders — Brevet Major-General Gregg, commanding 2d cavalry 
division; Brevet Major-Generals Griffin, Ayres and Crawford, of the 5th Corps, 
and Brevet Major-General Mott, commanding 3d Division, 2d Corps — his high 
appreciation and commendation of their performance of the instructions issued to 
them by him. He desires that they will convey this approval to their commands, 
with such especial praise as they may deem due to individuals in their divisions. 

The Major-General commanding expresses his thanks to Brevet Brigadier-Gen- 
eral Wainwright, chief of artillery, for his efficient management of the artillery 
of the command; to Lieutenant-Colonel A. L. Thomas, chief quartermaster, for 
the thorough manner in which he conducted the trains, and to Brevet Major Van 
Bocklin, 50th New York Engineers, for his efficiency and promptness in the man- 
agement of the pontoon train. 

By command of Major- General Warren, 

Fred. T. LOCKE, Brevet Colonel and Assistant Adjutant- General. 



— 543 — 

tration, on apple-jack found on the way, which, to our surprise, 
was in almost every house in appreciable quantities." * 

The ist Michigan were the discoverers of the inspiring 
beverage known by the names of Apple-jack, Dew of the Or- 
chard, Jersey Lightning, etc. Unaware of its powerful elevat- 
ing influence and the abundance of the supply, they deemed it 
a good thing which they ought to keep to themselves. Apple- 
jack, however, taken with any liberality, proclaims itself, and 
noisy shouting, singing and laughing soon acquainted the men 
of the other regiments with the fact that ardent spirits were 
close at hand. The whole brigade gathered for the attack. 
Barrel after barrel was captured, their heads were stove in, and 
the men rejoiced over their success. Alas ! Dew of the Or- 
chard captured the men in turn. The provost guard, hurrying 
to the scene, upturned the barrels and returned to Old Mother 
Earth her gift of fruit in another shape. The elevation ex- 
tended further than the brigade. One regiment of cavalry, 
sent to suppress disorder in another, helped things along in 
such a way that it, too, had to be looked after. General 
Chamberlain, who had the infantry rear guard at this time, was 
obliged to make of half his brigade a provost guard to keep 
our men from running out of the column and being lost or left 
along the road. The expedition was known for some time as 
the "Apple-jack Raid." 

On the Jerusalem Plank Road, well to the rear of the opera- 
tions of the investment, the regiment soon settled for a season 
of quiet. It was some two months before it was again called 
upon to bestir itself. 

The winter of 64-65 is even yet remembered for its severity. 
Far-off southern Virginia rivalled northern latitudes in its 
ability to drive the mercury below the Farenheit limit for snow 
and ice. At times the Potomac was closed to navigation, and 
communication with Washington and the North was had by 
way of Annapolis. Neither the weather, the temperature nor 
the proximity to the enemy in any way interfered with the 

* General Warren's official report of the operations of his command on the 
Weldon Railroad, December 8 to 13, 1864. MS. 



— 544 — 

means and measures heretofore resorted to for comforts, con- 
veniences and entertainment during lengthened seasons of in- 
activity. Experience had bettered them, nor in the 5th Corps 
were they interrupted by the frequent affairs on the picket lines, 
which sometimes became serious, and in the aggregate entailed 
a loss in killed and wounded by no means trifling. 

Leaves of absence and furloughs were again introduced 
under the conditions that had before prevailed. Because of 
the greater distance from home, they were lengthened to the 
more appreciable period of fifteen days. The Sanitary and 
Christian Commissions still continued a generous activity, and 
despite the heavy tolls exacted as their welcome supplies passed 
through the numerous intermediate channels, they yet reached 
the ranks — their ultimate destination — in fairly liberal quantities. 

The brevet commissions of Lieutenant-Colonel Herring as 
Colonel, Major O'Neill as Lieutenant-Colonel, and Captains 
Wilson, Walters and Ashbrook as Majors, were received during 
the month of December. Sergeant Robert Paschall was mus- 
tered as 1st Lieutenant of Company E, and assigned to the 
command of Company G. 

There were several executions of enlisted men, in the 2d Di- 
vision, on the gallows. It was the first administration of the 
death penalty, by hanging, in the corps. 

The news of the splendid achievements of Sherman's army 
in its march to the sea was received with joyous demonstrations. 

The quartette club of the regiment, led by Sergeant Hainan, 
had secured a considerable reputation. On New Year's day 
of '65, by invitation, it quite acceptably entertained a large 
gathering of officers at General Bartlett's head-quarters. On 
that occasion the officers of the brigade resolved to present 
General Griffin with a handsome Maltese cross. 

An odd-looking specimen of humanity — a light mulatto boy 
— presented himself at the surgeon's quarters one morning 
about this time, while the regiment was encamped in front of 
Petersburg — whether in reserve or in the trenches, all locations 
hereabouts were styled " in front of Petersburg " — and inquired 



— 545 — 

very politely, with cap in hand, if the officer needed a servant. 
He was barefooted, dirty and ragged, and his hair long and 
uncombed, and he was maimed by the loss of a thumb. Sur- 
geon Thomas directed him to take soap and water, thoroughly 
wash himself and return. When a deep crust of Virginia soil 
had been removed from his body, his appearance was im- 
mensely improved. He was accepted. When his long locks 
were shorn off and a new suit of clothes from top to toe was 
prepared for him, he felt as proud as a young prince. He was 
very intelligent, and stated that he was the son of Robert Ruf- 
fin, a white man residing on James River, engaged in mer- 
cantile business and a prominent politician in the neighbor- 
hood. The mother of the lad was a slave owned by Mr. Ruffin. 
The boy stated also that he was called Robert Ruffin, and 
usually received kind treatment from his master, especially 
when no strangers were present, frequently receiving from him 
candy and small presents. His thumb had been lost acci- 
dentally by a pistol shot fired by his master. He proved a 
faithful and industrious servant. 

When the army was preparing for muster out and return 
home, the surgeon proposed to send him back to City Point, 
but when he piteously implored not to be sent South, and 
with tears streaming down his cheeks asked to go home with 
the officers, the surgeon agreed that he might go. 

The boy appeared to be infused with new life and scarcely 
knew how to contain himself. On arriving in Philadelphia, 
after the regiment was mustered out, he mounted one of the 
surgeon's horses and accompanied him to his home at Apple- 
bachville, Bucks county, about forty miles from Philadelphia. 
The doctor then proposed to send him to public school. On 
making inquiry of one of the directors whether he could be 
admitted, the doctor was informed that the sentiment of the 
community was strongly against negroes, and he was fearful 
that the patrons of the school would raise a storm if he were 
sent. Nevertheless the director concluded that he might go, 
and if the opposition was too strong he could then leave. 
35 



— 546 — 

On his first day's entrance to school, the boys and girls gave 
him a wide berth and looked upon him as a wild and dangerous 
animal in the school-room. The mothers in a short time be- 
came very loud in denunciation of the " der schwarze," as they 
styled him, going to their school. It did not, however, take 
many days for the poor colored boy to make friends with the 
school-boys, and soon they were all anxious to sit with him. 
He related to them his military experience — how they built 
forts in the army, formed line of battle, and fought. He be- 
came quite a hero with them and had crowds of boys, big and 
little, around him listening to his army stories. His progress 
in study was rapid, and in a brief time this poor, friendless boy 
who at first did not know his alphabet was at the head of every 
class in the school. A few years after, he was sent to Phila- 
delphia to learn a trade. He went to Sunday-school there, and 
in consequence of his quickness and aptitude to learn, his 
teachers gave him private lessons in the evenings, and the 
church furnished him with means to go to Lincoln Uni- 
versity, in Washington, D. C, where he was graduated in the 
course of time at the head of his class, and is now in the South 
preaching and teaching. 

The brigade was now composed of veteran regiments only, 
and consisted of the 1st Michigan, 91st Pennsylvania, 83d Penn- 
sylvania, 1 1 8th Pennsylvania, 32d Massachusetts, 20th Maine, 
and 1 6th Michigan. The men called it " the best brigade in 
the army." General Bartlett still remained its honored chief. 
With a commander eminent as a fighting man among all the 
host of brave, distinguished leaders, and with the splendid per- 
sonnel of the seasoned soldiery that filled the ranks, there was 
justification in the high rating the household chose to give 
itself. This good opinion held by the brigade of itself was 
not without warrant. General Warren himself, in his official 
report of the Dabney's Mills affair, styles the 3d the " largest 
and best " brigade* of the division. The pardonable pride 

*" I then directed General Griffin to reinforce General Winthrop by a brigade 
and to take command of operations on the Vaughan Road, reserving to myself 



— 547 — 

of never forgetting one's own merits had not in this instance, 
at least, taken so very extravagant a shape. 

As the Weldon Railroad north of Hicksford and Bellefield 
was never rebuilt, the opinion that its destruction in December 
was effectual, was a well-founded conjecture. The one or the 
other of these points was the nearest available railway terminal 
to the southward from Petersburg, and from there up the Me- 
herrin through Dinwiddie Court-House by the Boydton Plank 
Road supplies were wagoned to their destination. It was con- 
cluded that it was time to stop this operation, or so interrupt 
this route of supply as to render its continuance dangerous. 

Consequently, on the morning of the 5 th of February, at 
three o'clock, General Gregg's cavalry division was despatched 
by the way of Ream's Station across Rowanty Creek to Din- 
widdie Court-House. From thence it was to secure the 
Boydton Plank Road, intercepting and capturing supply trains 
said to be on it, nor was it to lose opportunity of inflicting any 
other injury. 

Again much of the army was involved in the enterprise, the 
enemy developing a like activity. Again there was discomfiture, 
inglorious contacts, no results. Gregg found the plank road 
but little used and no opportunity to do injury, save in the cap- 
ture of some prisoners and a few wagons. General Warren 
was not satisfied and was anxious to try it over again; and Lee, 
to stiffen the waning enthusiasm of a stricken people, heralded a 
pretentious victory. 

General Warren, charged with the direct support of the 
cavalry, on the same morning, at seven o'clock, moved down 
the Halifax Road to Rowanty Post-Office, thence by a road 
direct to the crossing of Rowanty Creek at W. Perkins's, about 
a mile above Malone's Bridge, and from thence to a point half- 
way between the creek and Dinwiddie Court-House, where he 
was in easy communication with General Gregg. 

General Griffin's 3d Brigade (A is largest and best), which was on the right, to send 
to General Ayres in place of General Winthrop's if it was needed there." (The 
italics are the author's.) General Warren's official report of the operations of his 
command on the 5th, 6th, and 17th January, 1865. MS. 



- 548 — 

General Ayres's division led, General Griffin's followed, Gen- 
eral Crawford brought up the rear. With the column follow- 
ing Griffin and in front of Crawford were twelve field-pieces, 
with eight horses to each piece and each caisson. The trains, 
consisting of half the corps' ambulances, fifty wagons of in- 
fantry ammunition and fifty-six wagons heavily loaded with 
forage and ammunition for the cavalry, followed the troops. 
The men took four days' rations. The column was preceded 
by three squadrons of the 6th Ohio cavalry, commanded by 
Captain Sexton. 

Hatcher's Run loses its name at its confluence with Gravelly 
Run, and from thence still trending southward is known as 
Rowanty Creek. From the camps to the creek the country 
was fairly open for the region. What timber there was mostly 
skirted but one side of the road at a time. Across the creek to 
where the column halted, in the open ground about Har- 
greaves's plantation, the road passes through a heavy forest. 
At the point where the halt was made the Vaughan Road comes 
in from the north-east and continues on to Dinwiddie Court- 
House. Arthur's Swamp borders the run to the north of its 
confluence with Gravelly Run. 

The crossing at W. Perkins's, which the head of the column 
reached at 10 a. m., was found to be smartly defended by about 
IOO infantry. A squadron of cavalry being unable to keep 
down the fire, General Gwyn's brigade was ordered up, and the 
fire was soon silenced and a crossing effected by swimming and 
wading, a few passing over on the ice. General Gwyn, by 
virtue of his brevet rank, had been assigned to the com- 
mand of a brigade in General Ayres's division, and so re- 
mained until the end of the war. The loss on our side was 
slight. Some twenty-five prisoners were captured. 

The stream, sixty feet wide, could not be forded by men or 
horses. Trees were soon felled for the men to scramble over 
upon ; the horses were shortly able to cross by a bridge made 
for them, which, by one o'clock, was made practicable for artil- 
lery and trains. 



— 549 — 

At 3.45 p. m. the crossing of all was completed. As fast as 
the column crossed it was moved out to the Vaughan Road, 
the position assigned to it, and of which it took possession 
without opposition. At 4.30 it was learned that General Gregg, 
having been to Dinwiddie Court-House and his mission com- 
pleted, was on his way back to Malone's crossing of the 
Rowanty, where he would bivouac for the night. 

Two of General Humphreys's divisions — General Humph- 
reys had succeeded General Hancock in command of the 2d 
Corps — had moved out from the extreme left, where his corps 
held the works on the morning of the 5th, and Smyth's division 
had handsomely repulsed an attack made upon it late in the after- 
noon. To prepare for any concentration which this attack ap- 
parently indicated the enemy might make in the morning, at 9 
p. m. General Warren was ordered to move up and join General 
Humphreys at the Vaughan Road crossing of Hatcher's Run. 
The cavalry division was ordered to join General Warren. 

General Griffin's division was first ordered in motion, but the 
relieving of pickets so delayed the movement that it was nearly 
midnight before it was fairly on the road. The trains followed 
General Griffin, then General Ayres's division and the artillery. 
General Crawford's division followed Ayres's. General Gregg 
joined Warren at 4 a. m. on the 6th, bringing up the rear, skir- 
mishing with the enemy and punishing him severely when he 
came close enough. The troops had little rest and no sleep. 
The night was very cold and no fires allowed to be made, and 
the roads were frozen hard before morning. 

The troops crossed the run at the Vaughan Road crossing 
at 6.30 on the morning of the 6th. At 12.15 o'clock General 
Warren received orders to make a reconnoissance to the south 
and west of Hatcher's Run and ascertain the whereabouts of 
the enemy. The Vaughan Road runs southerly, and the road to 
Dabney's Mills branching from that road a short distance below 
the crossing runs westerly. 

General Crawford moved out the Vaughan Road to where it 
turns off to Dabney's Mills, and then out that road to the west- 



— 55o — 

ward, instructed to drive the enemy back and ascertain the po- 
sition of his entrenched lines. General Ayres followed General 
Crawford with his division. 

General Gregg was directed to send a force of cavalry down 
the Vaughan Road to the crossing of Gravelly Run. General 
Griffin's division was held in reserve, posted where the roads 
diverge, to support either columns as his services might be 
needed. 

It is a mile and three-quarters from the Vaughan Road 
crossing of Hatcher's Run by that road to Gravelly Run cross- 
ing, a mile to where the Dabney's Mills Road turns off, and a 
mile across country to the mills. From the Vaughan Road 
crossing of Hatcher's Run directly west, towards Dabney's 
Mills, the country is open, with an occasional bog ; the other 
half mile is heavily timbered. Just to the southward of this 
direct line the timber pushes out to the eastward and comes 
within a quarter of a mile of the run. 

Lee was not content that these operations about his right 
flank should continue without resistance, and part of Pegram's 
division, of Gordon's corps, was sent out to look after matters 
on the Vaughan Road, while the other part, with Evans's and 
Mahone's divisions, were vigilant in the neighborhood of the 
mills. General Gregg ran into the one, General Crawford into 
the other. 

Meanwhile General Wheafon's division, of the 6th Corps, 
4500 strong, and General De Trobriand's brigade, 2500 strong, 
were at the Cummings House, just east of the run; ready for 
effective service should their presence be required. 

General Crawford had not proceeded far before he encoun- 
tered the enemy's entrenched picket line, which was handsomely 
carried by General Bragg's brigade. 

General Gregg was now being sorely pressed on the Vaughan 
Road. General Winthrop's brigade, the only infantry force he 
had, it was intended should rejoin its division, but, severely at- 
tacked, it maintained itself most creditably until reinforced by 
a brigade of General Griffin's division. General Griffin, as in- 



— 55i — 

structed, accompanied the brigade and assumed command of 
the column operating in that direction. The 3d Brigade — " his 
largest and best " — was reserved to supply the place of Win- 
throp's detached from Ayres's ; the other brigade of the divi- 
sion continued to be held as a support. 

General Crawford drove the enemy to and beyond the mills. 
Rallying there, they forced back his left somewhat and General 
Ayres, with his two brigades, was sent to his support on that 
flank. The enemy was again driven out to Some distance be- 
yond Dabney's Mills. The firing continuing to be constant and 
severe, Griffin's 3d Brigade, now in close support, was all put 
in with General Ayres to hold our left. 

The brigade, commanded by General A. L. Pearson, of the 
155th Pennsylvania, in the absence of General Bartlett, had 
crossed Hatcher's Run as early as 6.30 in the morning. It 
had not reached the eastern bank after its midnight start from 
the vicinity of Dinwiddie until three o'clock. Moving forward 
a short distance, a line of breastworks was thrown up, and here 
there was a stop until late in the afternoon. The timber from 
each side of the stream was felled across it and quite a sub- 
stantial bridge constructed with its trunk and branches. The 
permanent bridge over which the column advanced was some 
distance to the right of this structure. 

The brigade was formed in rear of a brigade of the 3d Divi- 
sion and extended along to the rear of a brigade of the 2d Di- 
vision, from right to left, in the following order: 33d Massa- 
chusetts, Colonel Edmunds; 155th Pennsylvania, Captain J. S. 
Bell; 16th Michigan, Lieutenant-Colonel Partridge; 1 1 8th 
Pennsylvania, Brevet Colonel Herring ; 20th Maine, Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Gilmore ; 83d Pennsylvania, Lieutenant-Colonel 
Rogers ; 91st Pennsylvania, Captain Donnell ; and 1st Michigan, 
Lieutenant-Colonel Lockley. The line had scarce formed when 
the enemy's shells shrieked through, lopping off the limbs 
and boughs from the thick timber. The ground was of a 
marshy nature, the underbrush close, and progress was 
made with difficulty. 



552 



At 4.30 P. m. the brigade advanced in line to its position 
of close support, and the firing continuing to be constant and 
severe, it was shortly moved to the heat of the action. The line 
halted in an open field in which was here and there a tree, and 
at once fell under a fierce fire of artillery. 

Colonel Herring rode Quartermaster Gardiner's horse, an 
animal he had recently purchased, and which he desired to test 
under fire. First restive, then impatient, under the screech and 

roar of the bursting 
shells, the animal 
finally became un- 
manageable. Circ- 
ling and rearing in 
every direction, it at 
last plunged into a 
hole made from the 
uprooting of a fallen 
tree. Colonel Her- 
ring was unable to 
disengage himself in 
time, and the horse 
fell heavily upon his 
foot, so severely in- 
juring it that he was 
unable to walk. He 
at once dismounted 
captain Nathaniel bayne. Lieutenant Paschal 

who, in the absence of Peck, was acting adjutant, and mount- 
ing Paschall's horse continued to direct the movements of the 
regiment. 

Beyond the point where the command had halted the ground 
was marshy and heavy. 

Pursuant to instructions from General Warren, to whom the 
brigade detached from the division reported directly. General 
Pearson took two regiments, the 33d Massachusetts and 155th 
Pennsylvania, on the double-quick and went to the support of 




— 553 — 

General Ayres's left. The heavy firing from the direction in 
which they moved told conclusively that they had at once be- 
came engaged. Attention was still intent upon this and the 
heavy shelling, when General Pearson, returning hurriedly, rode 
up and directed Colonel Herring to put in his regiment, as the 
Michigan skirmishers had been severely handled, and many of 
them captured. The Michigan skirmishers, with the 32d 
Massachusetts and 155th Pennsylvania, were the first of the 
brigade to come in contact with the enemy, when the whole 
was ordered in by General Warren to secure General Ayres's 
left. 

Moving gallantly forward, the line swept on until the boggy 
ground was reached, where, from the difficulty in crossing it, 
some confusion ensued. This was speedily overcome, the line 
readjusted itself of its own volition, charged up to and over a 
line of the enemy's rifle-pits, and under a galling fire proceeded 
to face them the other way. 

At this point Captain John Scott, of Company A, was mor- 
tally wounded. Captain Scott, entering the service as a ser- 
geant, had risen through the grade of second and first lieutenant 
to the command of a company. He was of sterling stuff, emi- 
nently courageous and thoroughly a soldier. The attempt to 
carry him to the rear was a failure. In the heavy pressure fol- 
lowing the falling back, he was abandoned at his own solicita- 
tion and fell into the hands of the enemy. The next day it 
was learned through the enemy's pickets that he had died in 
their field hospital. Wm. L. Gabe, whose devotion to Captain 
Ricketts at Shepherdstown will be remembered, nobly stayed 
with Captain Scott until the latter insisted that he should 
leave him and save himself. Captain Bayne, while trying to 
assist Scott, was shot through the cheek. Happily the wound, 
though painful, was not mortal. Bayne was a noble officer. 
He was a warm friend of Scott, and like him had risen from 
the ranks, earning promotion by soldierly conduct. 

As Captain Scott fell Colonel Herring rode up to give direc- 
tions for his removal, when a ball struck his right leg just below 



— 554 — 

the knee. Sensible for a time only of the blow, and not that he 
had been severely wounded, he congratulated himself that the 
stout cavalry boot of the Philadelphia City Troop pattern, a 
pair of which he wore, was strong enough to turn a ball. He 
continued, unconscious of his hurt, to direct the fighting until 




CAPTAIN JOHN SCOTT. 



an officer of the 20th Maine, observing the hole in his boot and 
the stream of blood that flowed from it, called his attention to 
the apparently serious nature of his wound. Realizing for the 
first time the full extent of his injury, and gradually becoming 
faint from loss of blood, Colonel Herring formally turned over 
the command to Colonel O'Neill, and proceeded to work his 
way to the nearest point for surgical attention. 

The firing at the moment was tremendous, and the under- 



— 555 — 

taking was coupled with dangers equal to those of the front. 
The Colonel did not dismount, but weak and sinking from ex- 
haustion, he feared to trust himself alone to manage his horse, 
and a faithful soldier led it until he too was wounded, and fell. 
At the breastworks built in the morning, the horse fell dead. 
The ball which passed through Colonel Herring's leg had 
entered its body, penetrating a vital organ. The noble animal 
had borne its wounded rider from the field, as if determined to 
be faithful to the very last. 

An ambulance bore the colonel to the Cummings House. 
The last sounds that came to him from the field were the yells 
and cheers from the desperate onslaught that broke the lines 
which he had struggled so manfully to maintain. 

The 1st Michigan and 1 1 8th Pennsylvania were thrown to- 
gether. Officers and men displayed great gallantry in resisting 
the advance of the enemy. Darkness coming on, the lines 
were reformed, and the troops laid in line of battle on their 
arms on open ground. During the night it rained, and as the 
water fell it froze on the men's overcoats and on the blankets 
in which some of them had wrapped themselves. A few small 
chip and twig fires were all that the men had to warm them. 
Huddled together upon the ground, they shivered with the 
cold through the long night. The heavy log fires which the 
Confederates had built within two hundred yards of the line 
did not increase their comfort. When morning dawned, the 
Pennsylvania Reserves moved out as skirmishers ; the enemy's 
pickets fell back before them, and our line was again well ad- 
vanced. The regiment covered the rear on the return to quar- 
ters. 

The wound Colonel Herring had received ended his career 
with the regiment. All efforts to save his leg proved fruitless, 
and within a few weeks it was amputated. His system had be- 
come very much prostrated, and for a long time after the ampu- 
tation his life was despaired of, but a vigorous constitution tri- 
umphed and he is yet among us, a noble type of the manhood 
that saved the nation. 



- 556- 

With all its changes of leadership, the 1 1 8th had ever been 
cohesive, self-sustaining and reliable. It met with no more 
serious blow than the loss of Colonel Herring. Brave, con- 
scientious, dignified and soldierly in appearance, he was a leader 
to inspire respect and confidence. With the culture of a gen- 
tleman and the bearing of the trained and skilful soldier, he 
secured that willing obedience always cheerfully yielded to 
intelligent control. 

His devotion to his command was remarkable. Offered pro- 
motion which would have severed his connection with the regi- 
ment, he declined, declaring his unalterable purpose never to 
leave it. A strict disciplinarian, he had the full confidence of 
the men in times of danger. Every man in the ranks felt that 
if it were possible to save them from disaster in the field, Colonel 
Herring's quick observation and cool, determined courage 
would accomplish it. 

The story of the rest of that part of the affair at Dabney's 
Mills in which Bartlett's brigade participated can be best told 
in General Warren's own language. He thus speaks of it in 
his official report of the operations of his corps at that time. 
The narrative it will be remembered was interrupted after the 
brigade had been for a time engaged at the rifle-pits, which 
under the enemy's fire it had faced the other way, and General 
Warren's report is taken up after he has spoken of putting in 
the whole of Bartlett's brigade to hold Ayres's left. 

" I sent then also at once for at least a brigade of General 
Wheaton's division, intending to order the whole division up 
if affairs on the Vaughan Road would permit. Unfortunately, 
however, the enemy got up reinforcements faster than I could, 
and when a brigade of General Wheaton's division was nearing 
the scene of action, a charge was made by the enemy in force 
(according to the Petersburg Express consisting of three divi- 
sions), against which I had but six brigades opposed. 

" Our line, despite all the exertions of the prominent officers 
and much good conduct among those in the ranks, gave way 
and fell back rapidly, but with little loss after the movement 



— 557 — 

began. Portions of the line continued to fire as it retired, and 
General Wheaton got his brigade in line and with it a portion 
of the others reformed, so that the enemy was checked before 
our old lines were reached by us. 

"... I must say, if our troops had all stood as firm at Dab- 
ney's Mills as the best [the reader will bear in mind that Gen- 
eral Warren, in this same paper, had already noted the 3d 
Brigade, Bartlett's, as the best and largest of Griffin's division] 
of them did, that I had enough there to have held the enemy 
till any amount of reinforcements could have arrived. On the 
whole it was not a bad fight and in no way discouraged me in 
my willingness to try the same thing again with the same men. 
Nearly all the operations of the column toward Dabney's Mills 
I was an eye-witness to and can speak of the good conduct of 
all those officers on whom I have heretofore relied. 

"... I take this occasion to deny the newspaper corre- 
spondents' statement that this brigade (the brigade of Wheaton's 
division) fired into any of our troops. It was under my eye 
the whole time and did not fire except upon the enemy. I 
would also state that there was no ammunition wagon aban- 
doned on the 6th. I wish further to state that our falling back 
from Dabney's Mills under the fire of the enemy was, in my 
opinion, unnecessary and was against my orders. I had force 
to have held on longer ; the enemy did not flank us, but came 
square in front, and I believe we can do better next time."* 

General Warren's conspicuous prominence at the extreme 
front through all this action was again a theme for laudation 
among the soldiery. Scarce any one who saw him seated upon 
his splendid white horse, amid the shower of bullets, ever ex- 
pected his escape. 

Lieutenant James J. Donnelly, of Company E, won for him- 
self enviable distinction. After the line broke, in command of 
the skirmishers, he checked the enemy so noticeably that Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Gideon Clark, who commanded the 1 19th Penn- 

* General Warren's report of the operations of his command on the 5th, 6th 
and 7th of February, 1865. MS. 



- 55§ - 

sylvania, one of the supporting regiments of the brigade of 
General Wheaton's division, made special mention to Donnelly 
of his excellent fighting, and General Warren also personally 
complimented him. 

It rarely fell to the lot of the clerical force of the army to be 
thrown into the heat of an engagement, but it so happened to 
Levi Teal, of Company C, chief clerk at the head-quarters of 
General Griffin, at the Dabney Mills fight. A skirmish line, in 
the midst of the confusion resulting from the retreat, had been 
overlooked. To recall it, some half a mile distant, it was 
necessary to ride through the retreating troops of the 2d Di- 
vision and under the fire of the enemy pressing them. No 
staff officer was at hand, and Teal was despatched on the mis- 
sion. He successfully accomplished his errand, bringing the 
skirmish line in safely. Teal was one of those serviceable aids 
to the business of a head-quarters on whom, in the absence of 
the general and all his staff in the active operations of the 
field, great responsibilities rested. On this occasion he proved 
himself as available for the field as he was invaluable at the 
desk. 

A regiment such as the 11 8th was looked to supply more 
than its proportionate share of that very essential need to the 
conduct of army affairs — a skilled clerical force. Among the 
most efficient selected for such duty was Albert Haverstick, of 
" H." After the battle of Shepherdstown his merits were first 
discovered by his company commander. Papers of the very 
excellent character, which he prepared, in travelling through 
the different head-quarters, necessarily attracted attention. As 
was invariably the case, the company commander soon lost the 
services of his very efficient clerk and some superior secured 
them. Haverstick rose to the chief clerkship at the head-quar- 
ters of the Army of the Potomac, was retained by General 
Meade after the regiment was mustered out, and after that was 
for a time on duty with the general at Philadelphia, while in 
command of the military division of the Atlantic. 

The brigade remained in position on the west bank of the 



— 559 — 

run during the 7th, and that night, the weather becoming bitter, 
stinging cold, all troops operating on the west bank withdrew 
to the east of Hatcher's Run. 

During the winter in front of Petersburg the 5th Corps more 
than any other experienced the inconvenience of frequent mov- 
ing, and now, relegated to the extreme left of the army, for the 
third time housed itself in permanent quarters. 

About the middle of March Generals Grant and Meade re- 
viewed the corps. It was quite a gala day ; the ladies of the 
families of the distinguished officers and others graced the oc- 
casion with their presence. The 1 1 8th happened in a promi- 
nent position, the right of the brigade, and spruced itself ac- 
cordingly. With but three divisions, aggregating ninety-three 
men, it was not very noticeable for strength, but made up in 
appearance what it lacked in numbers. 

The provost-marshal was authorized to pay a fixed price 
for all muskets brought in by deserters from the enemy. On 
one occasion on the picket line in our immediate front a desert- 
ing teamster drove in a six-mule team, for which the provost- 
marshal was said to have allowed him $1 100. 

But there was to be no more house-building ; reviews, 
parades and ceremonies were over. March was rapidly disap- 
pearing in good and cheering weather, and everything was ap- 
parently in readiness for the final plunge. 




A CANTEEN WASH. 



CHAPTER XX. 



WHITE OAK RIDGE — GRAVELLY RUN FIVE FORKS — APPOMATTOX. 




S the army had hoped against hope so long, 
it naturally doubted whether the 
spring campaign would end in 
final success. But when, as 
March was waning, in the spring 
of '65, two great army corps, 
with all the cavalry, swung over 
Hatcher's Run, there was some- 
thing in the air itself that gave 
assurance that the end had come. 
The anxiety that grows as the 
goal is nearing gave way to a 
determination to see it out, with 
all its risks and chances. Vet- 
erans who had gone through all without an ailment or a wound 
drowned their anxious hopefulness in fixed resolve. There 
was no hesitancy. Men who a year since would have halted 
before the dread advance were up and at them ere the bugle 
sounded forward. After a sharp repulse there was a quick re- 
bound. The enemy's staggering blows of desperation ended in 
his hopeless rout. His mad races were fruitless. Outstripped 
at every turn, blocked on every highway, famished and weary, 
he yielded and the patriot army's work was done. 

General Griffin's division at the opening of the campaign 
numbered 6,547 men. Its three brigades were commanded 
respectively, the 1st by General J. L. Chamberlain ; the 2d by 
General Gregory, and the 3d by General J. J. Bartlett. Ours, 

(560) 



- 5 6i - 

the 3d Brigade, was the same in organization as mentioned in 
the preceding chapter. 

The 5th Corps moved from its camp in the vicinity of the 
Vaughan Road crossing of Hatcher's Run at three o'clock on 
the morning of the 29th of March, General Ayres's division 
leading, General Griffin's following, General Crawford bringing 
up the rear. The movement did not reach Griffin's division 
until a time much later than the starting hour, and it was six 




FIRE! FIRE! TOTAL LOSS— NO INSURANCE. 

o'clock before its camps were broken. The route east of the 
run lay through Arthur's Swamp to the crossing of Rowanty 
Creek at W. Perkins's, where the corps had crossed in February. 
This point is better known as Monk's Neck Bridge. Thence 
the movement continued by the old Stage and Vaughan roads 
until the Chappie was reached, about two miles from Dinwiddie 
Court-House, a position which the order of march designated as 
its termination. At 4.45 a. m. the head of the column had reached 
36 



— 562 — 

Rowanty Creek, where a few shots were fired by the enemy's 
lookouts, and by eight was at the point of destination. 

The country through which this movement had been made 
and the operations about to follow were to be conducted "was 
of the forest kind common to Virginia, being well watered by 
swampy streams. The surface is level and the soil clayey and 
?indy, and, where these mix together, like quicksand. The 
soil after the frosts of winter first leave it is very light and soft, 
and hoofs and wheels find but little support." * 

The pleasant weather prevailing for a time disappeared. 
During the late afternoon rain set in hard and the little support 
afforded hoofs and wheels seemed lost altogether. This un- 
fortunate change in the weather materially affected the move- 
ments of the next few days. 

The few clearings were so infrequent as scarce to leave im- 
pression that the marching and fighting of the day had been 
other than through the same dense, interminable forests which 
were everywhere. The point at the Chappie had been secured 
without opposition, and at noon General Griffin was directed to 
return by the Vaughan Road to the junction of the Quaker 
Road, move down it towards the Boydton Plank Road and 
connect with the left of the 2d Corps. 

General Chamberlain's ist Brigade led the column. Imme- 
diately after crossing Gravelly Run he met the enemy's skir- 
mishers, drove them steadily to the Lewis House, where, after a 
spirited engagement, lasting some two hours, he managed, with 
that surpassing skill and resistless energy which General Cham- 
berlain had always at command, to drive the forces he had met 
— portions of Johnson's and Anderson's divisions supported by 
Wise and Wallace's brigades — completely from the field. At 
one time when Chamberlain was sorest pressed the 16th and 
ist Michigan and the 155th Pennsylvania, of the 3d Brigade, 
were sent to his assistance and rendered most efficient aid. 

General Chamberlain thus speaks of them : " The line was 
falling back in front of the Lewis House when Lieutenant- 



* General Warren's Report. MS. 



— 5^3 — 

Colonel Doolittle, of the 188th New York, came up, gallantly- 
leading his regiment, as also Colonel Partridge with him, 16th 
Michigan. The 155th Pennsylvania and 1st Michigan came on 
in the most handsome manner, passing to my front, Brevet 
Brigadier-General Pearson grasping his colors and dashing 
straight against the enemy's line." 

It was a very sharp fight. The loss in Chamberlain's brigade 
was heavy, but that of the enemy was far greater. The general 
himself had warm work in the whirl and fury of the struggle. 
His horse was shot under him, his left arm disabled, and a 
minie ball, striking him fair in the breast, glanced just over 
his heart, and left a painful wound and a disreputable-look- 
ing coat. He did not relinquish his command or leave the 
field. 

Promptly, as General Chamberlain's success was assured, the 
whole skirmish line of the division was advanced, closely fol- 
lowed by the line of battle. General Warren, as usual, was 
prominently conspicuous with the skirmishers. 'The line did 
not stop its advance until it drew the enemy's artillery fire from 
his main line of works, covering, it was supposed, the White 
Oak Road, about a half mile north of the j unction of the Quaker 
Road with the Boydton Plank Road. The last position at 
which there was any determined stand was at this junction, 
and from this position, where "the two roads join," says Gen- 
eral Warren in his Official Report, "the 11 8th Pennsylvania 
drove the last of the enemy." 

There was a house at this point in the middle of a large 
clearing, called, by General Warren, J. Stroud's farm, from 
which a body of sharpshooters were picking off the men with 
considerable accuracy. Captain Moore and Lieutenant God- 
win were ordered forward with a line of skirmishers. Godwin 
reached the house among the first and entered as the enemy 
left. Some of the men rushed for the windows and fired from 
them. The enemy brought up a piece of artillery, and although 
our shots seemed to be well directed, no attention was paid 
them particularly by a Confederate officer who stood on the 



— 564 — 

works directing its movement. The first shot went over the 
house, the second struck it, and the third exploded in the chim- 
ney, taking off the right arm of Corporal Charles S. Calhoun, 
of" K," and the left of David Stockel, of" A." Two days after 
Stockel died at City Point. Brick and plaster flew about thick, 
enveloping the new occupants of the structure in dust and rub- 
bish. The men were then ordered away from the house and 
deployed to its right and left as skirmishers. 

Upon the farther side of a large open field, which the advance 
had reached, was a strong, well-manned line of the enemy's 
breastworks. Here, night nearly on, we advanced, the Line 
halted, and, in obedience to orders, threw up a line of works 
which were not completed until after midnight. The sky was 
black and at times the rain poured in torrents. It had been a 
day of hard work, some danger and much anxiety ; a wet, cheer- 
less and comfortless night followed. It was a sudden and not 
a very refreshing change in a single twenty-four hours, from 
good weather and quiet camps to the risk of battle by day and 
the comfortless exposure to a heavy storm of rain by night. 

Under cover of darkness we advanced and built a line of 
breastworks close to the rebel line. It rained hard next morn- 
ing ; the rebels stood upon their works looking over at us. Not 
a shot was fired. Some of our men stuck loaves of bread on 
bayonets and held them up, saying : " Hey, Johnny ! Come 
over and get some fresh bread and coffee." They did not 
come. Shortly after an officer on a white horse dashed along 
their line and they retreated and we advanced out. 

The tempest continued during the day and the roads became 
impassable, so that all operations for the 30th, except those so 
far advanced that their continuance was essential, were sus- 
pended. Rut, so far at least as its skirmish line was concerned, 
the 1 1 8th was billeted for pretty active work. 

The division still retained the position it had taken up the 
night before. As early as six o'clock in the morning, General 
Warren sent the following instructions to General Griffin : 

" Have General Bartlett's skirmish line feel the enemy in his 



- 565 - 

front and ascertain if they are in the same position as last 
night, if he has not already determined it, and send me a report 
in writing." 

General Bartlett was quick in his response ; in fact, he had 
doubtless anticipated his instructions, for at 7.30 a. m. General 
Griffin sent the following to General Warren : 

Since the fog has lifted a little, I find the right of my skirmish line within one 
hundred and fifty yards of a complete line of rifle-pits, now held in, as far as de- 
veloped, the usual force for such a line. I have made a demonstration with my 
skirmish line, which is in the open field, and am satisfied the position will be hotly 
contested. I send a diagram of my line and the lines of the enemy with the sup- 
posed line of advance of the 2d Corps. No connection has yet been made with 
me on my right or left either by lines of battle or skirmish line. 
Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

Jos. J. Bartlett, Bv't Maj.-Gen. Com'g Brigade. 

Since the above was written it has been reported the 2d Corps connects. 

Charles Griffin, Brevet Major- General. 

About noon the skirmish line was advanced, that of the 
enemy having fallen back. This act on their part was due to 
the advance of General Humphrey's skirmish line with some 
of the right of the 5th Corps line, which made the enemy's 
skirmish line untenable. Under General Warren's supervision, 
he finding that the line of battle could be advanced to a good 
position, it was now moved forward some half mile across the 
open field to the point where the road from Dabney's enters 
the Plank Road. During this movement the enemy opened 
with artillery from breastworks near the Burgess Mills. A 
subsequent reconnoissance showed the battery, which at first 
was supposed to be on the south side of Hatcher's Run, to 
have been at the junction of the White Oak Road with the 
Plank Road. 

This was the same locality where General Hancock had at- 
tempted to secure a permanent lodgment in the previous Oc- 
tober, and from which he eventually rescued himself from most 
perilous surroundings. The White Oak Road was the shortest 
route of the enemy's to Five Forks, a point which once secured 



— 566 — 



must ultimately force the enemy's abandonment of his Peters- 
burg entrenchments. On the White Oak Road his permanent 
works terminated, just to the westward of Burgess Mills, and 
to hold it there and beyond against the threatening attitude of 
the 5th Corps and the cavalry, he was bending all his energies. 
Hatcher's Run to the north of Armstrong's Mill changes direc- 
tion and courses westerly. 

The pickets advanced some distance beyond the line of battle. 

From the picket line 
it was discovered, 
General Warren per- 
sonally making the 
observation, that the 
enemy's breastworks 
were well located 
and constructed and 
defended by infantry 
and artillery. Trees 
prevented their being 
seen at all points. 
The timber had been 
well slashed to give 
effect to the fire, and 
where the fallen trees 
did not obstruct the 
ground abatis had 
geo. w. wii.liams, first lieutenant co. i. been laid. During 
these operations it rained hard. 

Sergeant Stotensburg, as usual, pressing ahead saw an op- 
portunity to pick up a few prisoners, and dashing out in front 
of the advancing pickets brought in four men, who evidently 
had not expected to be so actively pursued. 

General Ayres, while General Griffin was operating in front 
of Burgess Mills, had moved out to the northwestward, to a 
position where he could see the White Oak Road, and Gen- 
eral Warren was quite anxious Humphrey's should take care 




— 567 — 

of Griffin's front, that he might use Griffin to co-operate with 
Ayres and Crawford. 

About four o'clock Wilcox's division made a demonstration 
against Griffin's front but was easily driven back. A few pris- 
oners fell into our hands, mostly broken down men who had 
but a short while before been forced into the service. 

The enemy were utilizing the White Oak Road actively. 
During the day Pickett's division had been seen to pass along 
it. His whereabouts were developed during the night, and 
what he accomplished by his short route and rapid march was 
quite apparent in his operations the following day. 

Near midnight General Griffin reported that he was unable 
to form any definite opinion as to the practicability of an assault 
on the enemy's works. His skirmish line encountering a skir- 
mish line of the enemy in superior numbers was unable to press 
forward. He hoped that things might be changed in the morn- 
ing, but before that time came General Humphrey had been 
ordered to send a division to relieve him and he was ordered 
to move down the Boydton Plank Road to General Ayres's old 
position. 

Within the time after daylight on the 31st that it took to 
accomplish the movement, General Miles's division of the 2d 
Corps had relieved General Griffin's, and Griffin was massed a 
short distance east of a branch of Gravelly Run, across a wood 
road running from near Mrs. Butler's to W. Dabney's on the 
White Oak Road. 

General Ayres was still at W. Dabney's, within sight of the 
White Oak Road, with the enemy's pickets on our side of it, 
and General Crawford was between him and General Griffin. 
The divisions were so assembled, with their lines refused, that 
they could fight in any direction, and attention was being de- 
voted to getting the road through the woods in order. 

While the enemy's communication was continuous along the 
White Oak Road with his pickets still south of it, there was 
some anxiety for the safety of the position of the entire corps, 
more particularly as the pause arising from the suspension of 



— 568 — 

operations which was directed to continue through the 31st 
would give the enemy time to gain knowledge of our force and 
position. It was essential also that a greater distance should 
be secured between our pickets and the line of battle, " to give 
the latter time to fully get under arms so soon as any pressure 
of the advancing enemy showed itself at the advance posts." 
Consequently at 9.40 a. m. word was sent out to General Ayres 
to try and drive off the enemy's pickets and develop with what 
force the White Oak Road was held. "To prevent any relaxa- 
tion of vigilance until the position of the corps should be made 
secure, General Warren gave no notice to his command of the 
order suspending movements." 

When Griffin's division had reached its position across the 
wood road arms were stacked, knapsacks unslung, and the men 
set about the preparation of the morning meal. The sun, shin- 
ing warm and bright, broke through the scattering clouds ; 
blankets were spread out to dry, and everywhere was that feel- 
ing of soldier buoyancy always so distinctively dominant dur- 
ing the short rifts in seasons of continual contacts. The 
buoyancy was born to short duration. A thunder of cannon- 
ading and rattle of small arms burst out most unexpectedly, 
and for the moment Griffin's division looked as if it might be 
absorbed in the confusion and demoralization of the divisions 
in advance of it, suddenly rolling back upon it in rude disorder. 
But Griffin, awake to better thoughts, reserved his men for 
substantial work. 

This is the way it came about. General Winthrop, with his 
brigade of General Ayres's division, was advancing about 10.30 
A. m., when simultaneously an attack, which had been in 
preparation by the enemy against Ayres's division, fell upon 
Winthrop in heavy force both from the north and west. Gen- 
eral McGowan had not completed his movement across Ayres's 
left flank when firing across his front began, and he at once 
ordered a charge. The assault in front had been precipitated 
by the conduct of a lieutenant of General Hunton's brigade — 
subsequently promoted for his gallantry — who rushed out in 



— 569 — 

front of his company, waved his sword and cried : " Follow me, 
boys ! " With that the three brigades of McGowan, Gracies 
and Hunton threw themselves headlong into the charge, the 
full formation for which had not yet been consummated. 

Seeing he had a much superior force to encounter, General 
Winthrop faced his brigade about and marched back across the 
field in good order. Not so with the rest of the division. Re- 
peated attempts were made to check the advance of the enemy 
and to hold the troops, but to no avail. The retreat of Ayres 
communicated itself to Crawford, and both divisions disap- 
peared in disorder, only rallying at last in rear of Griffin's di- 
vision, which still held itself firm along Gravelly Run. 

At the sound of the firing heard in his front General Griffin 
at once put the right of his division in motion towards it. He 
had scarcely reached the bank of Gravelly Run when he was 
met " by the 3d Division running to the rear in a most de- 
moralized condition, soon after followed by the 2d Division." * 

The command, "Fall in! fall in!" ringing out simultane- 
ously with the crash that came from the front, was obeyed with 
alacrity. Muskets were quickly taken and the line moved for- 
ward with vigor to a rise of ground overlooking the run. As 
the torrent of fleeing soldiers drove through it, General Grif- 
fin's voice could be heard plainly as it rang : " For God's sake, 
let them through, or they will break our line." The enemy 
could be seen descending a hill, moving over the swale that 
separated the rise which they had left from that which the di- 
vision had secured. They evidently intended to cross the run. 
Mink, who served his guns so handsomely at Pegram's Farm, 
was in battery on the right. His guns thundered, musketry 
crashed, severe fighting followed. The hillside, dotted with 
the enemy's dead and wounded, told of effective work. 

The skirmishers detailed from the regiment were hard at it 

most of the day ; some of them expended eighty rounds of 

ammunition. At one time, when the ammunition was about 

exhausted, Colonel O'Neill asked for a volunteer to carry it to 

"ral Griffin's report. MS. 



— 570 — 

the line. It was a perilous undertaking. Sergeant Stotensburg 
responded. He ran along from man to man, dropping a quan- 
tity in rear of each one, was shot at vigorously, but discharged 
his dangerous mission successfully and returned unharmed. 

At this juncture General Griffin and General Warren rode 
down to Chamberlain, who, with his brigade and the artillery, 
was holding our extreme left, where we expected an attack, 
and, stating the imminent danger, asked him if, suffering as he 
was from his wounds, he felt able to try to stem the torrent of 
this repulse. Their language in this exigency was very strong. 
Chamberlain felt the critical situation and instantly threw his 
brigade across the branch and, pressing the advantage already 
gained by our skirmishers, pushed the way steadily over the 
ground lost by Crawford and Ayres, when, reaching the open 
field in front of the enemy's works, he formed a solid line of 
battle, and, putting General Gregory's brigade, which had been 
sent to him in the woods, on his right, to make a wheeling at- 
tack, taking the enemy in flank, he charged straight at them 
across the open field. He swept everything before him, snatch- 
ing the enemy's battle-flags out of their hands in the works, 
capturing them and securing the White Oak Road. Thus Mc- 
Gowan's, Grades' and Hunton's short-lived triumph was turned 
to disaster. 

The opportunities for achievements with a flying corps are 
measurably greater than those of troops forced to sit down 
solidly in front of formidable entrenchments. The chances 
that came to General Chamberlain during this campaign came 
to one of conceded high soldierly abilities, whose unswerving 
sense of honor and justice impelled him to the exercise of those 
abilities fully and fairly, no matter what the duty, what the 
danger, what the fatigue. If any one in the 5th Army Corps 
maintained a spotless name and won enduring fame during the 
operations of that corps from the 29th of March to the 9th of 
April, 1865, more than commensurate with the range of the 
command he held, that one was Joshua L. Chamberlain. Gen- 
eral Warren fixed the seal of official commendation on all of 



— 57i — 

Chamberlain's deeds, his brother officers gave them the ap- 
proval of their high appreciation, and his soldiers honored him 
as he deserved. 

General Sheridan, who, on the 29th, had crossed the Rowanty 
below Warren, was, on the 31st, while part of the force was 
moving towards Five Forks and the rest remaining in position 
in the vicinity of Dinwiddie Court-House, most seriously at- 
tacked by Pickett's infantry and all the cavalry of the Army of 
Northern Virginia. Against these severe odds, detached and 
alone, he most gallantly maintained himself. 

As the sounds of the firing from Sheridan's battle gradually 
receded, it was a source of much consideration at the head- 
quarters of the 5th Corps, and at five o'clock General Warren, 
of his own motion, ordered General Griffin to send General 
Bartlett directly across country to attack the enemy on his 
flank. 

Strangely the sound of the firing created a contrary impres- 
sion at the head-quarters of the Army of the Potomac. There 
it was believed to be growing nearer, and later on, when Gen- 
eral Warren was directed to send a force down the White Oak 
Road to open it for General Sheridan, he was instructed to 
caution it to take care not to fire into Sheridan's advance, and 
to advise it that, as the firing was so near, it would not likely 
have far to go. 

The artillery of the corps had all been left on the Boydton 
Plank Road on account of the mud, and three regiments of the 
brigade, under General Pearson, had been detached to sup- 
port it. 

It was nearing dark when the brigade passed through the 
picket line, moving in the direction of the distant battle sounds, 
yet distinct, though the day was disappearing. Pertinent in- 
quiries from the pickets as to the intended destination were un- 
answered. The moving column was as ignorant — save that the 
direction trended battleward — of its place of stoppage as were 
the inquirers. The route was part way by a narrow roadway, 
lined on either side by a growth of young pines. The move- 



— 572 — 

ment was conducted cautiously, and the men, realizing that 
they were detached from the army, knowing they were in dense 
woods in the midst of approaching darkness, pressing toward 
a battle-field, manifested the anxiety naturally attendant in such 
conditions. 

The movement of General Bartlett is best described in the 
language of Major Cope, a staff officer of General Warren, 
who accompanied Bartlett's column. 

"About 5 p. m. you directed me to lead General Bartlett's 
brigade by a direct route, if possible, toward the sound of fir- 
ing in the direction of Dinwiddie Court-House and attack the 
enemy in the rear. I immediately reported to General Bart- 
lett, who had his column put in motion. The left of the corps 
rested in open ground. We came out from the left and crossed 
this ground for half a mile ; then we came to a small branch 
of Gravelly Run in the edge of the timber. Here we found a 
wood road that ran in the right direction. We followed it one 
mile through this wood, over rolling ground, crossing three 
branches of Gravelly Run. At the south edge of this timber, 

and in open ground on a hill, stands Dr. 's house, and 

here our skirmishers became engaged with the enemy's pickets. 
The ground slopes from here to Gravelly Run and is open in 
front all the way down. The enemy, after considerable skir- 
mishing, were driven down the slope and across the run three- 
quarters of a mile from the house. The house is near a main 
road leading north from Dinwiddie Court-House to the White 
Oak Road. General Bartlett established a line of pickets along 
Gravelly Run crossing this road. He also kept vedettes out on 
his right, watching this road and other approaches in the rear. 
It was much after dark when he had made the proper disposi- 
tions of his troops, and then we began to turn our attention to 
the number and extent of the enemy's camp-fires. They 
seemed to stretch for miles on the south side of the run, and 
we could distinctly hear them chopping, moving wagons and 
talking." 

General Bartlett's position close up against the Gravelly Run 



— 573 — 

Church Road, nearly down to its crossing of Gravelly Run, 
directly on the enemy's flank, prevented him from communi- 
cating by that road during the night, and would compel him, 
if he desired to reinforce his troops at Dinwiddie, to make a 
considerable detour to do so. 

With Bartlett in this controlling position, with his three 
regiments and the corps artillery holding the plank road tow- 




BIVOUAC NEAR A HAYSTACK. 

ards Dinwiddie, it may well be understood how exceedingly 
Warren regretted, as in his official report he says he did, the 
step shadowed in the confidential despatch received from head- 
quarters of the Army of the Potomac at 8.40 in the evening, 
intimating the probability of contracting the entire lines during 
the night of the 31st. In a previous despatch General Warren 
had already foreshadowed, what actually did occur, that with 
Bartlett where he was, if Sheridan kept on fighting, the 



— 574 — 

enemy could not remain between him and Dinwiddie, but must 
fall back to Five Forks. As to the confidential communication 
shadowing a withdrawal, he remained of the same belief, point- 
ing out in his reply how Humphreys, with the 5th Corps artil- 
lery already there, could hold the plank road, asserting that 
unless Sheridan had been too badly handled, there was yet a 
chance for an open field fight, and urged that he be allowed to 
move down and attack the enemy at Dinwiddie Court-House 
on one side while Sheridan did so on the other. 

There was insistance upon the contracting movement, ex- 
cept that a division should reinforce Sheridan, indicated from 
General Meade's head-quarters, as Griffin's orders from army 
and corps head-quarters had both been published providing for. 
it. But at 10.15 p. m. the advance was again ordered to be re- 
sumed, in a communication virtually accepting Warren's sug- 
gestion, to be permitted to press down on one side of Dinwiddie 
while Sheridan should close up on the other. The ground se- 
cured by the two days' hard fighting was not to be aban- 
doned. 

The night was dark and stormy, and the difficulty of com- 
municating in the dense woods was so great that although the 
order withdrawing the division by the plank road had gone 
to the troops from corps head-quarters an hour and a half 
before the order directing a resumption of the advance was 
issued, yet the latter order reached them first. The troops had 
been sorely tried and needed rest. The proximity to the enemy 
forbade the use of drums or bugles to rouse the men, and every 
order had necessarily to be communicated personally from the 
commanding officers to their subordinates until it eventually 
reached the non-commissioned officers. Fatigued to the limit 
of endurance, the sleep of the soldiers was deep and heavy, 
and the task of the non-commissioned officers to arouse each 
one individually was not light. The moon set after midnight, 
on a dark, starless night in the gloomy forests ; the search first 
for commanding officers and then for the soldiers was no easy 
one. 



— 575 — 

At 9.35 p. m. General Bartlett's brigade was withdrawn to 
rejoin the division. Whilst awaiting his return the orders for 
concentration were changed, and Ayres's division was sent 
instead of Griffin's, by the plank road route to report to Sher- 
ridan, Griffin and Crawford being directed to move across 
country over the same route Bartlett had travelled, to strike 
the enemy's flank at daylight. Their route was much shorter 
than Ayres's, and though Griffin did not move until five on the 
morning of the 1st of April, his advance, led by General Cham- 
berlain, came up to Sheridan at Crimps at 7 a. m., where, at that 
hour, General Sheridan stopped the corps until one in the after- 
noon. 

Sheridan had planned for great achievements, if the condi- 
tions had remained as he had hoped. " Do not fear my leaving 
here," said he to Warren. " If the enemy remains I shall fight 
him at daylight." But as Warren had intimated, " if Sheridan 
keeps fighting him " and I remain on his flank, he cannot main- 
tain himself and must fall back. Such was what the daylight 
showed. In the darkness of that starless night, Pickett stole 
away to meet, behind his Five Forks' entrenchments, the end 
laid out for him in the open fields about Dinwiddie. 

The corps had halted ; Crawford at J. Boiseau's, near where 
the Gravelly Run Church Road joins the road to Dinwiddie, 
and Griffin across the road a half mile to the southward of 
Crawford. Ayres was still about three-quarters of a mile south 
of Griffin at J. M. Brooks's, at the junction of the road which 
leads from the Boydton Plank Road to the main road from the 
Court House to Five Forks. It was on this road a staff officer 
of General Sheridan had turned him off during the night while 
pursuing his route directly along the plank road to the Court- 
House. From Crawford's position to Five Forks was about 
four miles. 

That eventful April morn broke clear and frosty. The bodies 
of dead horses and men indicated considerable severe fighting 
even this distance from the Court-House. As the command 
halted, General Sheridan and his staff emerged from a neigh- 



— 576 — 

boring wood. His appearance had not become familiar to the 
soldiers of the 5th Corps, nor had they yet been impressed 
with that personal magnetism which roused all fighting men 
with whom he came in contact. His famous deeds, however, 
assured him enthusiastic demonstration. 

The enemy's works at Five Forks covered the White Oak 
Road, their variations from a straight line following the bends 
of the road, and terminating to the eastward with a return 
angle about eight hundred yards west of the junction of the 
Gravelly Run Church Road and the White Oak Road. Their 
western end rested on the junction of a road which diagonally 










TROUBLE AHEAD. 



connects the White Oak Road with the Ford Depot Road above 
C. Young's field, and their entire front, including their irregu- 
larities, covered a distance of a mile and three-quarters. The 
return extending northward to a depth of about three hundred 
yards was known to exist, but its exact location was supposed 
to be at, or nearly at, the Gravelly Run Church Road junction. 
It was against this mistaken location that the main infantry at- 
tack was directed. 

About two o'clock the column was put in motion, and 
moving the entire route through timber, came out within a 
mile of Five Forks, in the open country about Moody's. Be- 



— 577 — 

tween this small space of open ground and what has passed 
into history for the purpose of designation as the open ground 
about Gravelly Run Church, there is still a belt of woods. 
Covered by this timber, the corps was formed in line of battle, 
Crawford's division on the right, Ayres's, the smallest, on the 
left, and Griffin's in Crawford's rear, with his right brigade in 
echelon to the others. 

The order for the advance was given at four o'clock. The 
ground was rough and cut up with numerous ravines. Ayres 
struck the angle far west of its supposed position, instead of 
Crawford, as was designed, and after some gallant fighting cap- 
tured the return work, securing a large number of prisoners of 
Ransom's brigade of Johnson's division and taking many battle 
flags. This work was the key of the position. 

Immediately after crossing the White Oak Road Griffin's 
division changed direction to the left, as did the whole corps, 
to strike the enemy in flank and rear. After advancing about 
a mile and finding nothing in his front save a few cavalry 
vedettes,. the heavy volleys of musketry from Ayres's fight at- 
tracting General Griffin's attention, the division was halted. 
His personal examination showed that the discomfited bat- 
talion that had garrisoned the return works and the main line 
to the right of it, outflanked by their retreat, were moving up 
the White Oak Road. Meantime Chamberlain, who was on 
the right, had moved his brigade by the flank towards the sound 
of the heavy firing on his left. The division was then imme- 
diately faced to the left, and moving some three or four hundred 
yards in the new direction, south and west, its direction was 
again changed to bring it perpendicular to the line of battle. 
Griffin and Crawford were now completely in the enemy's rear, 
but Crawford, nearly half a mile to the north, still continued 
to press westward towards and through the open fields of 
Young's farm. 

At the point where the direction had been changed to the 
perpendicular to the line of battle, the enemy had thrown up 
slight entrenchments upon the crest of a hill, connected them 
37 



- 5/3 - 

with their main line and manned them with Ransom's and 
Wallace's troops to oppose the sweep that Griffin was making 
down their rear. General Bartlett with three regiments of his 
brigade, and General Chamberlain with his whole brigade, moved 
up rapidly under the crest of the hill, charged the works, struck 
them obliquely in flank and reverse, the right of Chamberlain's 
line passing down the rear of the works, and his left in front 
of them. General Bartlett struck further up, met a very heavy 
flank fire on the right, which somewhat broke up both com- 
mands. The extreme right fell back, and the remainder of the 
line showed a strong disposition to swing to the left into the 
works upon the crest, from which the enemy had just been 
driven. To have permitted this would have rendered the whole 
line powerless against the heavy flank attack, which the firing 
on Bartlett's right indicated as just then commencing. Bartlett's 
right, the 20th Maine and 1st Michigan, was in imminent peril. 
Two of Chamberlain's regiments swept down their rear, and 
Gregory's brigade — which had been ordered to report to Gen- 
eral Chamberlain for the rest of the campaign — also moved 
forward in the same direction to break this attack and relieve 
Bartlett's right. " In the attempt to do this the regiments of 
the several brigades became somewhat mixed, but a new di- 
rection was given the line and the enemy completely put to 
rout." * Some of this confusion resulted from the troops ex- 
changing shots with the cavalry who were coming up in front 
of the enemy's works. This affair lasted about half an hour ; 
the resistance was stubborn and the enemy's fire quick, sharp 
and decisive. Some fifteen hundred prisoners and several battle 
flags were captured. The position from which Griffin had dis- 
lodged this force was in the southwest corner of the Sydnor 
field. He was yet half a mile from the junction of the Ford 
Road with the White Oak Road, where the Five Forks battery 
was located. 

Following Crawford's path, indicated by his dead and 

* General Chamberlain's report of the operations of his command from the 29th 
of March to the 9th of April. MS. 



— 579 — 

wounded, General Warren found him on the Young farm in 
good order, facing westward. He at once changed his direction 
to the southward, and moving down the line of the Ford Road 
met at the edge of the wood on the south side of the farm a 
sharp fire from a force that had formed line across the Ford 
Road. This was a force — Terry's brigade, Colonel Mayo com- 
manding — turned back by Pickett to make head against these 
rear attacks, and also some of Ransom's troops just dislodged 
by Griffin from the Sydnor field, and four guns of McGregor's 
battery which had eluded capture at the return. Part of Bart- 
lett's brigade here joined Crawford. The other troops of 
Griffin and Ayres had not yet reached the point. The resist- 
ance was brief, and McGregor's four guns were captured. 

After a few minutes' delay, Griffin's lines were restored and 
a direction was given them perpendicular to the line of the 
enemy's entrenchments. Generals Chamberlain and Bartlett 
personally collected a large number of men who had sought 
the edge of the woods for shelter. In this connection General 
Chamberlain makes special mention of Captain Robert M. Brin- 
ton, then an aide on the staff of General Griffin. "The confu- 
sion of the battle at this time was great. Different commands 
were completely mingled, but our own line was still good."* 
General Chamberlain, who had been authorized by General 
Sheridan in the midst of the fight to take command of any of 
the troops which had lost their place in the confusion, put 
General Gwyn's brigade of Ayres's division in at a critical 
moment when the issue trembled in the balance, and it did ef- 
fective work. The division was then pushed forward along the 
main line of entrenchments, capturing prisoners and driving 
the enemy, who took advantage of every rise of ground, until 
the three brigades had advanced to Five Forks, where the cav- 
alry (Colonel Fitzhugh's brigade of Devier's division) and 
infantry met, capturing five guns — the Five Forks battery — and 
several caissons. Bartlett's brigade of itself, on the Ford Road, 
took an entire train of wagons with supplies, etc., and ambu- 
lances beloneinsr to Pickett's division. 



* General Chamberlain's report. MS. 



— 580 — 

The pursuit was kept up until after dark, when, the cavalry- 
having pushed to the front out of sight and hearing of the in- 
fantry, a halt was ordered. The division was then withdrawn 
some three miles, and at eleven o'clock at night went into 
bivouac near Gravelly Run Church. 

A report prevailed that the prisoners, to whom but little at- 
tention had been paid, had again armed themselves and were 
prepared for further resistance. The 1 1 8th was ordered to 
look after them, which it did. Upon investigation the report 
proved to be without foundation. The Confederates who still 
retained their arms threw them down the moment the demand 
was made to do so. Captured arms were so plentiful that next 
day they were used to corduroy the road, that the wagons and 
artillery might pass over the mud upon them. 

As the evening shades were gathering, Pickett threw a force 
across the west side of the Silliam field, a wide expanse of 
open in front of the centre of his works, to attract attention 
whilst it should give a little God-speed to his scattered hosts, 
pouring in disorder to the northward. Crawford was formed 
upon the west side of this field, his right resting in the woods 
north of the entrenchments. Some little hesitancy to advance 
quickened Warren's impetuous zeal, and seizing the corps flag 
he led the division across the open, closed up tight on the en- 
trenchments under a severe fire, and sent the only remnant of 
all of Pickett's brave battalions from its last abiding place. And 
with this culmination to so many deeds of conspicuous personal 
gallantry Warren's career as a distinguished soldier in war 
closed forever on the battle-field, with a sad intimation that his 
capacities did not equal the occasion. The flush of victory 
was still bright on his brow, his eye yet flashed the vigor of his 
brilliant impetuosity, when the harsh direction that severed his 
connection with the 5th Army Corps reached him, and sent him 
for the few days yet left of the Rebellion into what was an un- 
deniable, if not an apparently dishonorable, seclusion. 

After many years the wrong was righted. Worn and weary 
with the anxieties of delay, enfeebled with patient waiting, a 



- 5 8i - 

stout heart and manly frame yielded readily to disease, and 
General Warren lived but a short while to survive an honorable 
vindication. 

As Warren gave forth his last official utterance of the doings 
of that eventful day that made the victor worse than vanquished, 
he closed in choice and modest phrase, in sentiment of deepest 
earnestness pleading for the common justice afterwards so long 




CLOSE QUARTERS. 

denied him. " I trust, therefore," said he, " that I may yet re- 
ceive some unequivocal acknowledgment of my faithful ser- 
vices at the battle of Five Forks that will forever free me from 
opprobrium, even among the superficial." 

But historic parallels are not wanting of the sacrifice of great 
and good soldiers in all times. Kleber was left to die in Egypt; 
Kellerman was forgotten for Marengo ; Moreau was punished 
for Hohenlinden. 



- 582 - 



Among the killed of the regiment was Corporal B. E. Fletcher, 
of Company E. He had just reached his majority; had par- 
ticipated in every engagement from Shepherdstown to Five 
Forks. He was noted for his courage, and though wounded 
at Chancellorsville he had refused to leave the field. As an 
obedient, dutiful soldier he was relied on by his officers and 
had the esteem of his associates. 

Twenty-seven commissioned officers and 2,574 enlisted men 
were captured by General Griffin's division; 8 commissioned 




FIVE FORKS, SHOWING 118th GOING IN. 

officers and 849 enlisted men of whom were credited to 
General Bartlett's brigade, and about 1,200 to Chamberlain's 
brigade. 

General Griffin's elevation to the command of the corps in 
place of General Warren relieved, advanced General Bartlett to 
the command of the division and General Pearson to the brig- 
ade. Adjutant Peck was detailed for duty on the staff of Gen- 
eral Pearson, and Lieutenant Godwin was selected as the acting 
adjutant of the regiment. 

During the night great guns boomed ominously away off to 



— 533 — 

the right ; their flashes in the dim distance, so close together, 
pierced the heavens like the bursts of an aurora. 

On the morning of the 2d at the Five Forks between three 
and four thousand stand of arms and several caissons and 
wagons were destroyed, there being no means available for 
their transportation. 

Early on the same morning General Chamberlain led a re- 
connoissance up the Church Road, whilst most of the corps 
moved down the White Oak Road to the vicinity of W. Dab- 
ney's, where it remained until eleven o'clock, when it returned 
to the vicinity of Five Forks. General Pearson's brigade, how- 
ever, did not leave its night bivouac until the afternoon, when, 
with the rest of the corps, it moved across Hatcher's Run on 
the Ford Road, then across the Southside Railroad to the Coxe 
Road, camping for the night at Williamson's house, at the in- 
tersection of the Namozine Road with the River Road. Gen- 
eral Chamberlain, in advance, captured a train of cars at the 
crossing of the Southside Railroad, in which were a number of 
Confederate officers and men, and also drove a body of about 
1,500 dismounted cavalry off the Coxe Road. 

About four o'clock Robert M. Brinton, a staff officer, dashed 
along the column waving his hat and shouting: " Boys, Peters- 
burg and Richmond have fallen, and Lee is in full retreat to- 
wards Lynchburg." 

We shouted in reply : " Tell it to the marines ! " " Put him 
in a canteen ! " " Give him a hardtack ! " and various other de- 
risive yells. This was the first news that reached us of the 
evacuation of Richmond. We had great difficulty in plod- 
ding along on account of the mud. 

The news was received incredulously. What was almost the 
truth went begging. It was rather believed that urgency de- 
manded an exhausting march, and this incentive was thrown 
out as a stimulant to exertion. The officer had in fact antici- 
pated events. Petersburg was not abandoned until three 
o'clock on the morning of the 3d and the surrender of Rich- 
mond followed a few hours later. But enough had transpired 



— 5«4 — 

to warrant a reasonable exaggeration at even this little distance 
from the actual conflict. 

The 2d, 24th, 6th and 9th Corps had all gallantly stormed 
the massive entrenchments in their several fronts ; had closely- 
pressed the enemy from all his interior works, and the fate of 
the long beleaguered city hung upon what might be done while 
yet the daylight lasted. 

And now began the famous race. Our eminent chieftain, 
not satisfied with pursuing alone, had planned a more effective 
measure. His soldiers must out-march his fleeing adversary, 
cross his path, cut him off from succor and supplies and force 
him to submission. Lee's weary, straggling, hungry battalions 
were struggling for Amelia Court-House for concentration, but 
Grant, away beyond it, before Lee's famished legions reached 
there, had blocked the route to Danville. 

The 5th Corps, closely following the cavalry, moved out 
early on the morning of the 3d of April along the River Road 
to the Namozine Creek, bivouacking for the night in the vicinity 
of Deep Creek. The roads, difficult for the column, were al- 
most impassable for the trains, and the infantry for this and 
the two following days worked at putting them in some pass* 
able order. 

On the 4th the march was resumed at five o'clock in the 
morning and continued until after dark, when at Jetersville a 
line of battle was formed, the left of the corps extending across 
the Danville Railroad. Jetersville is a station on the Rich- 
mond and Danville Railroad, some miles southwest from 
Amelia Court-House and a little greater distance northeast 
from Burksville Junction, where that railway is crossed by the 
Petersburg and Lynchburg. Lee's ultimate destination was 
Danville. A line of Union infantry crossed his way, and he 
must await darkness and the opportunity to step off in a new 
direction. 

Preparations were made to attack the enemy's trains in this 
vicinity. Indications of his presence in force were apparent; 
earthworks were thrown up and the troops remained on the 
alert durincr the nicht. 



-585- 

On the 5th, under arms all day, preparations were active to 
receive or make an attack. About one o'clock a portion of the 
corps moved out towards Amelia Court- House to support the 
cavalry who, bringing up a large number of prisoners, were 
severely attacked on the road. The detachment returned to 
camp and the entire corps remained all the night of the 5th in 
the position it had taken the previous evening. 

On the evening of the 5th, at 7.40 o'clock, General Griffin — 




LIEUTENANT SYLVESTER CROSSLEY. 



his corps having been serving directly under General Sheridan 
from the time General Warren reported it to him on the morn- 
ing of the 1st — in obedience to instructions from General Sheri- 
dan, reported back to General Meade for orders, and at six 
o'clock a. m. on the 6th, in compliance with directions from 
head-quarters of the Army of the Potomac, marched from 
Jetersville along the Danville Road in the direction of Amelia 
Court-House to attack the enemy. After moving a distance 
of about three miles to a place called Smith's Shop, undoubted 



— 586 — 

evidence was received that the enemy had left and gone west- 
ward. The 5th Corps then moved to the northward on the 
Paineville Road, and from thence held the right of the army, 
General Bartlett's division leading the corps, and General 
Chamberlain's brigade the division. The route was continued 
via Paineville to Ligontown Ferry and Sailor's Creek. 

Near the vicinity of the latter, after crossing a distance of 
thirty-two miles, darkness having set in, the command went 
into bivouac. The march was very rapid and tiresome ; no 
opposing forces were met save small detachments of cavalry. 
About three hundred prisoners and many wagons were cap- 
tured, and a large number of gun-carriages, caissons and army 
wagons that had been captured by our cavalry or abandoned 
by the enemy were still burning as we passed. 

The sounds of distant firing late in the afternoon indicated 
what afterwards proved to be the brilliant affair of Wheaton's 
and Seymour's division of the 6th Corps and Merritt's and 
Crook's cavalry division with Ewell's and Anderson's troops at 
Little Sailor's Creek, resulting in a loss to the enemy of 6,000 
killed, wounded and prisoners, and the capture of Generals 
Ewell, Kershaw, Custer Lee, Dubose, Hunton and Corse. The 
total loss to the enemy on the 6th in his actions with the 2d 
and 6th Corps was not less than 8,000. 

Throughout the march the evidences that the army of Lee 
was breaking up were so apparent that much excitement pre- 
vailed and the troops forgot their fatigues in their enthusiasm. 
Tales of the exploits of the cavalry reached the infantry column, 
and the stories of the perilous doings of Sheridan's scouts 
were amazing. 

On the morning of the 7th, at five o'clock, the corps moved 
up the road by Sailor's Creek for Farmville, crossing the 
Lynchburg Railroad at Rice's Station, arriving near High 
Bridge, then destroyed, at 9.30 A. m., and halting there. Orders 
were received to pass in rear of the 2d and 6th Corps and move 
with all possible despatch to Prince Edward Court-House, 
which point, after a march of twenty miles, was reached at 7.30 



- 587 - 

in the evening. Thence the 5th and 24th Corps were to fol- 
low on the flank of the enemy and get in front of him, while 
the 2d and 6th Corps were to press his rear. 

The country through which the army was moving had seen 
nothing of the war. It was a fertile, productive region, and the 
well-stocked larders of what were yet thrifty plantations paid 
handsome tribute to the exorbitant exactions of the hungry 
soldiers. 

On the morning of the 8th, pursuant to instructions from the 
lieutenant-general, the 5th Corps was ordered to follow the 
24th up the Lynchburg Road, starting at six o'clock. The 
column struck the Lynchburg Pike at Prospect Station at noon 
and thence followed the 24th Corps towards Appomattox 
Court-House, bivouacking along the road at two o'clock on the 
morning of the 9th within two miles of that place. The dis- 
tance covered was twenty-nine miles, and was a hard, tiresome 
march, and many men fell out exhausted along the road. 
From Prospect Station the march was very slow and tedious, 
the roads being obstructed by the repeated and long halts of 
the 24th Corps. 

After dark the roadway narrowed, entering a deep forest. 
Troops of all arms of service crowded the crooked path, pre- 
senting a scene of apparently inextricable confusion. Each in- 
sisted on the right of way. Unoffending artillery horses were 
belabored by angry infantrymen, their masters resenting the 
assaults with violent profanity and defending their steeds with 
sharp whip cracks. The luckless generals leading the column 
came in for the usual share of threatening invective accom- 
panied by interrogating appeals, big with oaths, to stop the 
march. There was no disposition to prepare a meal, and with- 
out food the tired soldiers quickly sought a rest. 

But the rest was of short duration. A despatch had been re- 
ceived from General Sheridan, and great things were to be ex- 
pected and done that day. At four o'clock the bugles sounded 
the " general." Non-commissioned officers pulled at and 
aroused the worn-out men, and by six o'clock the head of the 



— 588 — 

column had reached General Sheridan at Appomattox, where 
very soon after the cavalry were reported heavily engaged and 
hard pressed. 

A staff officer rode along the column with the word that, if 
the infantry would " rush up," Lee's capture or capitulation was 
assured. He also bore the cheering information that two trains 
of cars, loaded with subsistence for the almost starving Con- 
federates, had been captured at Appomattox Station. 

Thus stimulated, the fatigues of the long night's march were 
forgotten and the troops pressed along with great rapidity. 
Daylight had broken bright and beautiful, with all the invigorat- 
ing freshness of early morning in the April spring time. An 
issue of rations was promised at nine, but its fulfilment was lost 
in events so momentous that hunger, appetite and exhaustion 
were of secondary consideration. 

General Ayres, moving on a line parallel with the 24th 
Corps, towards the firing, occasioned by the pressing back of 
the cavalry, faced his division into line of battle and immedi- 
ately pushed forward on the double-quick, deploying the 190th 
and 191st Pennsylvania, armed wiih Spencer rifles, as skir- 
mishers. General Bartlett's division, that had halted in the field 
with the men cooking coffee, was ordered to " fall in " quickly, 
minus their coffee, tired, disgusted and hungry, and came up 
rapidly in Ayres's right in two lines of battle, with the 155th 
Pennsylvania and a portion of the 198th Pennsylvania and the 
185th as a skirmish line. 

General Chamberlain, who had been detached from the 
column by a message from General Sheridan to push forward 
to his relief at once, had already reached the front line and had 
relieved our cavalry then sustaining the attack of the " Stone- 
wall Jackson " corps, and was now on the right of our line, with 
Gregory's brigade next and the 3d Brigade connecting on the 
left. The 11 8th was in the front line. The cavalry line of 
battle and the cavalry pickets, now all relieved, moved off by 
the flank at a trot, with sabre glistening in the sunlight, flanked 
by a herd of pack animals, and formed on the right of the 
corps. 



- 5§9 - 

Emerging from a small strip of woods into a clearing, the 
troops had a full view of what apparently awaited them. The 
enemy's skirmish line was in plain view, his battalions were in 
battle array on the hill-tops and several pieces of artillery were 
in position facing our right. Preparation and indication pointed 
to a heavy engagement. An occasional shell boomed out from 
the menacing guns. One killed an officer in General Chamber- 
lain's brigade, the last soldier who fell in the division. All the 
recollections of hairbreadth escapes, dangers braved, hardships 
breasted, crowded memory in weighty volume as these brave 
men for the last time faced a soldier's death. 

All the division now moved forward and attacked the enemy, 
pushing him back and driving both his artillery and infantry 
from the hills westward through Appomattox Court-House, 
taking a number of prisoners, several wagons and caissons. 
On our left a portion of the skirmish line had entered the town, 
its right being at the house of Mrs. Wright. The line of battle, 
rapidly moving up and closing in, was strongly supporting it, 
" when a message was received from General Sheridan that 
hostilities would be suspended, as General Lee was about to 
surrender," says General Griffin. " When a flag of truce came 
in with an aide of the commanding officer of the opposing 
forces, who was referred to the major-general commanding," 
says General Chamberlain. But the men had caught sight of 
the emblem and heard the welcome words to stay the fight a 
goodly while before their orders bade them do so. 

At maddening gait a single horseman dashed up the lane 
towards the Union lines and struck them immediately in front 
of the 1 1 8th. As he rode he swung violently above his head 
an article white in color, longer than it was wide. As he drew 
nearer a red border was plainly seen around the edges of his 
flag. It was, in fact, a towel improvised into a flag for the oc- 
casion, and the two great armies that for four years had so 
fiercely contended for the mastery were at last, in this quiet 
Virginia vale, brought to terms by this most innocent and es- 
sential of all domestic articles. The horseman approached the 



- 59° - 

left of the regiment, who stood across the lane and quickly 
asked : ' Where is your commanding officer, General Sheridan ? " 
We pointed to our right, saying, " Over there," and the truce- 
bearer was seen dashing away in that direction at breakneck 
speed.* 



*{Copy.) 

Charleston, S. C, May 22, 1886. 



Mr. J. L. Smith : 

Dear Sir : — Your letter of May 1st, enquiring as to detail of carrying the flag 
of truce at Appomattox, has remained unanswered longer than I intended from 
pressure of business, sickness in my family and general reluctance to write on this 
subject and disinclination to write at all on any matter or subject. 

The flag was a new and clean white crash towel, one of a lot for which I had 
paid $20 or $40 apiece in Richmond a few days before we left there. I rode 
alone up a lane (I believe there was only a fence on my right intact), passing by 
the pickets or sharpshooters of Gary's (Confederate) Cavalry Brigade stationed 
along the fence, enclosing the lane on my right as I passed. A wood was in 
front of me occupied by Federals, unmounted cavalry, I think. I did not exhibit 
the flag until near your line, consequently was fired upon until 1 got to or very 

near your people. I went at a full gallop. I met a party of soldiers 

. . . and near them, two or three officers. One was Lieutenant-Colonel Whitaker, 
now in Washington, and the other a major. I said to them: "Where is your 
commanding officer, General Sheridan ? I have a message for him." They re- 
plied : " He is not near here, but General Custer is, and you had better see him." 
" Can you take me to him? " " Yes." They mounted and we rode up the road 
that I came but a short distance, when we struck Custer's division of cavalry, 
passing at full gallop along a road crossing our road and going to my left. We 
galloped down this road to the head of the column, where we met General Custer. 
He asked : " Who are you, and what do you wish ? " I replied : " I am of Gen- 
eral Longstreet's staff, but am the bearer of a message from General Gordon to 
General Sheridan, asking for a suspension of hostilities until General Lee can be 
heard from, who has gone down the road to meet General Grant to have a con- 
ference." General Custer replied : " We will listen to no terms but that of un- 
conditional surrender. We are behind your army now and it is at our mercy." 
I replied : " You will allow me to carry this message back ? " He said : " Yes." 
" Do you wish to send an officer with me ? " Hesitating a little, he said : " Yes," 
and directed the two officers who came with me, Lieutenant-Colonel Whitaker 
and the major, whose name I don't know, to go with me. We rode back to Gor- 
don in almost a straight line. Somewhere on the route a Major Brown, of Gen- 
eral Gordon's (Con.) staff, joined me, I think after I had left Custer. 

On our way back to Gordon two incidents occurred. Colonel Whitaker asked 
me if I would give him the towel to preserve that 1 had used as a flag. I re- 



— 59i — 

There was at first a disposition not to be convinced that the 
situation was what it purported to be. Men cautioned each 

plied : " I will see you in hell first ; it is sufficiently humiliating to have had to 
carry it and exhibit it, and I shall not let you preserve it as a monument of our 
defeat." I was naturally irritated and provoked at our prospective defeat, and 
Colonel. Whitaker at once apologized, saying he appreciated my feelings and did 
not intend to offend. Passing some artillery crossing a small stream, he asked me 
to stop this artillery, saying : " If we are to have a suspension of hostilities, every- 
thing should remain in statu quo." I replied: "In the first place, I have no 
authority to stop this artillery ; and, secondly, if I had, I should not do so, because 
General Custer distinctly stated that we were to have no suspension of hostilities 
until an unconditional surrender was asked for. I presume this means continuing 
the fight. I am sure General Longstreet will construe it so." 

When I reached General Gordon he asked me to go in another direction, almost 
opposite to the one I had been, and take the flag to stop the firing. I replied 
that I could not so go, as I must go to General Longstreet ; besides some of his 
(Gordon's) staff were now with him. He directed Major Brown to go. Major 
Brown came to me and asked me lo loan him the towel. I took him off to a 
private place and told him I would let him have the towel on condition that he 
would not let the Federal officer get possession of it and that I would call in the 
afternoon for it. He took the towel, and in going into your lines (so he reported 
to me that afternoon) Colonel Whitaker asked for the towel to display to keep his 
own people from firing on him, and, as soon as he got into the lines, he mixed up 
with the others and disappeared with the towel. 

I learned a few years ago that Mrs. General Custer has the towel. When I 
reached General Longstreet, after leaving General Gordon, I found General Cus- 
ter and he talking together at a short distance from the position occupied by the 
staff. Custer said he would proceed to attack at once and Longstreet replied: 
"As soon as you please," but he did not attack. Just after I left Custer he came 
in sight of our lines. He halted his troops and, taking a handkerchief from his 
orderly, displayed it as a flag and rode into our lines. He was surrounded by some 
of our people and was being handled a little roughly when an old classmate of 
his recognized him and rescued him. 

Upon frequent applications from General Gordon to General Longstreet for re- 
inforcements, he (Longstreet) sent me to say to General Gordon that General Lee 
had rode down the road to meet General Grant and that if he thought proper he 
could send a message to General Sheridan, who was in command in his front, 
asking him for a suspension of hostilities until General Lee could be heard from. 
I found General Gordon without a staff officer near him, and he begged me to 
take the flag, which I did. Major Brown, of his staff, joined me somewhere on 
the route, I think as I was returning from General Custer. 

Pardon the hurried manner in which this is written. Let me hear from you 
again. What part were you in this surrender ? 

[Signed) R. M. SlMS, late Captain C. S. A. 



— 592 — 

other to accept what they saw with allowance, to remember 
that like deception had before been successfully practiced, and 
that while the authorities were dallying with a flag of truce 
Lee's broken columns might be quietly disappearing towards 
Lynchburg. Besides the transition was too sudden for realiza- 
tion. It could not be said it was unexpected, but that the 
supreme moment was actually at hand required some time for 
comprehension. But all doubts vanished, all hesitancy was 
stayed, as, moving to the hill-top and stacking arms, the soldiers 
saw spread out before them the worn, weary and broken bat- 
talions of the hard-fought Army of Northern Virginia. But, 
by-and-by, the sound of distant cannonading dissipated for the 
moment even these convincing proofs. It was the guns fired 
for rejoicing, but Grant, determining there should be no out- 
ward demonstration over the fallen foe, soon ordered it stopped. 
But he could not stop and did not attempt to check the heart- 
felt thankfulness with which the soldiery gladdened in their 
convictions that fight, battle and bloodshed were of the past. 

The line was now thrown into column of divisions and they 
were speedily covered with a heavy cordon of sentinels. No 
one was permitted to pass beyond them, and the men, so long 
delayed from opportunity to feed themselves, set about with 
what little subsistence yet remained to prepare a much-needed 
meal. In the desperate march the troops had far outstripped 
the trains and the supplies were miles and miles behind. It was 
wise, therefore, to carefully husband the little rations still in 
the haversacks. The order forbidding men to pass beyond the 
lines did not include a prohibition to come within them, and 
soon the bivouac swarmed with the rebs, disposed on friendly 
converse and suppliants for a stay of the famishing hunger that 
for days had been gnawing at their very vitals. 

The nibbling, mincing diet of the past few days had pinched 
the Union soldiers too. But a soldier kinship is a fellowship, 
liberal, self-denying, stintless in generosity, boundless in sym- 
pathy. Impressed with the same spirit of liberality as was 
their great commander, when he ordered the issue of 25,000 



593 — 



rations to Lee's enhungered troops, the soldiers of Bartlett's 
division shared their provender with their whilom foemen until 
every haversack was empty. The sweet aroma of real coffee 
staggered the Confederates, condensed milk and sugar appalled 
them, and they stood aghast at just a little butter which one 
soldier, more provident than his fellows, happened to have pre- 
served. A Johnny looked at the bit of butter a moment, as if 
trying to remember where and when he had been acquainted 
with its like before, and then asked in astonishment : " Do they 
give you rations like that ? " Gracious for such, to them, boun- 
tiful entertainment, the visitors lingered about for hours, com- 
paring incidents of fight 
and march and bivouac 
and exchanging trinkets 
and scrips to be retained 
as mementos of the 
occasion. There was 
no further familiarity 
permitted ; all inter- 
course was afterwards 
confined to the strict 
formalities attending the 
details of the surrender. 

The limited supply of subsistence continuing, the rations be- 
came miroscopic in quantity. There was nothing but the 
country to look to for food. In this was little satisfaction. An 
extensive slaughter of old cows yielded such garlicky meat that 
even hungry stomachs rebelled. 

On the night of the nth the division was marched out, it 
was said, to complete the details of the surrender. It was 
understood that Lee had requested, to avoid mortification, that 
these be perfected in the darkness. Whatever was the fact, the 
matter was delayed until the following day and the troops 
moved back to camp again. 

On the 12th of April, i86i,the first gun of the war wickedly 
belched its rebellious venom on Sumter's fated walls, and, as 
38 




DROP THAT GUN I" 



— 594 — 

if in human retribution, the last gun of the war was laid down 
in submission on its anniversary day, just four years after- 
wards. 

There had been bustle and activity from early morn, and 
about nine the division was drawn up in line (for to Bartlett's 
division solely was delegated the honor of receiving the sur- 
render), with its left resting near the fence which enclosed the 
grounds surrounding the now celebrated McLean House. The 
1 1 8th was on the left of the brigade close to the fence. In the 
McLean House the paroles were being prepared and signed. 
Here the soldiers expectantly awaited the appearance of the 
surrendering army. The troops had spruced up to appear to 
their best advantage, and arms, accoutrements and clothing 
showed but little of the rough usage they had been subjected 
to in this hard campaign. Soon a column of gray was seen 
wending through the valley, away off to the right, and the line 
was brought to " attention." A thrill of excitement ran along 
it and every man exerted himself to his uttermost to appear a 
soldier. General Evans's brigade, of Gordon's corps, led the 
Confederate column. As its head reached our extreme right 
it was wheeled into company line. 

General Griffin and General Gibbon had sent for General 
Chamberlain on the night of the nth and informed him that 
he was to command the parade on the occasion of the surren- 
der of Lee's army. The general then asked for his old com- 
mand, with which he had been constantly identified until he 
was detached to command the 1st Brigade at Petersburg, where 
he was so severely wounded. General Griffin at once assigned 
him to the 3d Brigade, and these were the troops which he 
found in line of battle on the morning of the 12th to take the 
last view of Lee's army. General Bartlett, commanding the 
division, sent the 1st Brigade and also General Gregory's 2d 
Brigade, which had served under General Chamberlain during 
the entire campaign, to take their places in the parade. These 
were found not in the same line, but close by. 

Our bugle sounded and our solemn and eager lines were 



— 595 — 

brought to the manual of the "shoulder" — now called the 
" carry " — as a mark of respect. Acknowledging the courtesy 
by similar movement, the column wheeled to front us. Then 
each regiment stacked arms, unslung cartridge boxes and hung 
them on the stacks, and finally laid down their colors. And 
then, disarmed and colorless, they again broke into column and 
marched off again and disappeared forever as soldiers of the 
discomfited Confederacy. 

The rebs showed discipline and marched well. Their arms 
were of all patterns and designs, many of them of English 
make. Their colors were all faded by the weather, some torn 
to shreds and many of them mounted on richly ornamented 
standards, while others were fastened to rude poles. Many a 
brave Confederate soldier turned from the old colors they loved 
so well and for which they had endured so much with tears in 
their eyes. No conversation was allowed between the two 
armies while the surrender was being made, but occasionally a 
pleasant word would be exchanged. One of a regiment which 
stacked its arms in front of us asked : " What regiment are 
youuns ? " " The 1 18th Pennsylvania," was the reply. " Didn't 
we give it to you at Shepherdstown ? " came back. " It took a 
whole rebel division to do it," we replied. We received them 
with every courtesy that could be possibly extended by a vic- 
torious army, with a single exception. A brigadier-general 
riding along at the head of his brigade attracted the attention 
of our regiment. He was a small, thin man, with a red face 
and a shrill, sharp voice. His uniform was all of the Con- 
federate color, with the exception of his coat, which was blue 
and covered with gold braid. He rode a large horse and 
looked like a grim, sour man. We saw that he was not ad- 
mired by his men. His brigade had halted in front of the 
1 1 8th and their commander gave the necessary orders to have 
them placed in position to receive our salute. Their line not 
being dressed up in time, he abused the men for being so tardy. 
They must have had the same abuse before, but now that his 
authority was broken they would not stand it. Turning an- 



— 59<5 — 

grily towards him, they tauntingly replied : " Look at him ! he 
is brave enough now, but he never was so near the Yankees 
before in his life." Without giving a reply he rode to the 
right of his command. "Who is he? Who is he?" came 
from a number of our boys. " Oh, he's General Henry A. 
Wise! " was the reply. For a moment we could hardly com- 
prehend this. We thought of brave old John Brown and of 
the imperious Governor of Virginia who had ordered his exe- 
cution, and here he was as a rebel general surrendering his 
command to the despised Yankees. Our men couldn't let the 
opportunity pass without firing a few hot shot at him and 
greeted him with such expressions as: "Who hung John 
Brown?" "Where did you steal your coat?" " Hang him to 
a sour apple-tree ! " " Shoot him ! " If there was a disgusted- 
looking man that rode from Appomattox that day it was ex- 
Governor Wise. 

After the rebels had stacked their arms they marched to 
head-quarters and signed their paroles and rapidly departed for 
their homes, so that on the following day scarcely a rebel could 
be found on that historic field. 

Much work was left for us to do after the rebs had left, in 
gathering up the stores and munitions of war. In the woods 
where the rebel army had encamped, muskets were scattered 
upon the ground in every direction. We found where whole 
battalions had stacked their arms and left for home, taking no 
part in the surrender, not even signing their parole. There is 
no doubt that many thousands went away in this manner, which, 
if added to those who marched in and stacked their arms, would 
have swelled Lee's army to over fifty thousand men, who sur- 
rendered on the 9th of April. It was a thankless and weari- 
some job for us to gather up those munitions of war. Major 
Jos. Ashbrook, who was division ordnance officer, destroyed 
immense quantities of them. 

The railroad bridges had been destroyed, so that trains could 
not reach us, while the condition of the roads made it impos- 
sible for wairon trains to move. Our rations were exhausted. 



— 597 — 

We were without food for two days. Foraging expeditions 
were sent out with poor results; a little beef was secured, but 
it was poor and tough, and so tainted with garlic that it was 
almost unfit to eat. Even this was soon exhausted. Some of 
the men were fortunate enough to find where corn had been fed 
to horses and mules ; this grain was gathered up, parched, and 
eaten with great relish. 

There were many relics carried from the field. Among these 
was the historic apple-tree, which was all appropriated, even the 
ground being dug up to secure its roots. 

Oh April 14 the rain poured down in torrents. Many of 




A FRIEND IN NEED.' 



the men had no tents, we had no rations, it was cold, muddy, 
and the picket line of our camp was maintained. Captain See- 
sholtz, of " K," posted the last picket line previous to our de- 
parture. On the 15th, about noon, we began our return march 
to Richmond. We had all heard of" conquering armies " and 
" flying banners," and their majestic appearance, but it was not 
so with our division on that day. We had often marched from 
fields of defeat with more martial display ; it was raining hard, 
the mud was ankle-deep in the roads, our uniforms were ragged, 
and the men were hungry and sour. No attempt was made to 
keep in the ranks, but at a rapid pace we straggled along the 
muddy roads, each man taking his own way as best he could. 



- 593 - 

We were to draw rations that night, the officers said, and 
with that thought to inspire us we pushed bravely on. Dark- 
ness came that afternoon at an early hour, but no halt was or- 
dered until after dark. We then received the cheering intelli- 
gence that " some one had blundered," and that we had marched 
the last two miles on the wrong road (old story). With many 
expressions of anger we retraced our weary steps until we 
reached the turnpike which, by mistake, we had left. Here we 
received the somewhat sarcastic order to break ranks and make 
ourselves comfortable for the night. The ground was so thor- 
oughly soaked with water it stood around our feet as we walked 
about. We had no means with which to build fires. We could 
only spread our blankets on the soggy ground and endeavor to 
sleep. The rain poured down upon us all night. 

The next day was cold and raw ; the mud had reached con- 
sistency to give the roads the appearance of mortar-beds. Still 
no rations in sight. It was reported we would get them at 
Farmville. Many of the men straggled up the railroad track. 
At noon we crossed the Appomattox River on a temporary 
bridge, and soon reached the village of Farmville. The rebels 
here had had great hospitals. 

The rain had ceased falling and the clouds had cleared away ; 
the scene spread out before us was beautiful, and, what was 
better, we saw our wagon-train and knew that we soon would 
have our rations. We stacked arms and laid around, and for 
the first time realized that the war was over. 

About 4 p. m. a despatch had been received announcing the 
intelligence that President Lincoln had been assassinated. At 
first we could not believe it, but when the news was authenti- 
cated, the men were deeply moved by it, and a gloom cast over 
the whole army. The people of Farmville were also much 
affected by it. It is impossible to describe the feeling that ex- 
isted ; we had all loved Lincoln so much ; the color bearers 
of the various regiments, to drape their flags in mourning, re- 
sorted to the device of dyeing white handkerchiefs or other 
fabrics at command, from ink secured from the men, proving 
the old adage, " necessity is the mother of invention." 



— 599 — 

On Monday morning we broke camp and marched to Burks- 
ville, and then proceeded along the line of the Danville Rail- 
road. On the following morning we found that " some one 
had again blundered " and we had to return to Burksville, and 
near that place we encamped, remaining there all the following 
day. From this point we proceeded slowly in the direction of 
Petersburg, and on Sunday, April 23, we stacked arms at 
Southerland Station. A ludicrous incident occurred here. A 




CORPORAL WILLIAM L. GABE. 



halt was ordered, and we supposed it was for a rest. In front 
of us was a colored cavalry regiment from Massachusetts which 
had reached the field just as the war was closed. The officers 
of this regiment were all white, the men all black. A number 
of our men went up to the tent of their regimental sutler and 
found he had a large stock of goods such as army sutlers 
usually sell. The colored soldiers were proud of their new uni- 
forms and put on many airs. Our boys were ragged and rough 



— 600 — 

and had no money — were ready for any kind of a skirmish. 
They crowded around the sutler's tent. Three negro soldiers 
on guard ordered them to fall back, but the men didn't feel so 
disposed and kept increasing in numbers. The corporal of the 
guard, a big black fellow, wishing to magnify his office, came 
up and undertook to arrest our men for disobeying orders. 
The result was that Sergeant Brightmeyer landed the corporal 
on his back ; in a moment all was excitement. The ropes of 
the sutler's tent were quickly cut, and the men rushed in and 
carried off boxes of canned peaches, canned tomatoes, sardines, 
tobacco, cheese, cookies — everything disappeared in a moment. 
The 20th Maine, ist Michigan and our boys all had a hand in 
this plunder. The officers of the colored regiment rushed 
down with drawn swords to arrest the offenders, but by the 
time they arrived on the ground there were entirely other men 
there seeking plunder and participating in the fight with the 
negro guards (they having now been called out). The officers' 
swords went flying in the air, and their new hats with cords 
and tassels were being kicked about like footballs by the men. 
If the cavalry officers had acted wisely they would have let the 
matter drop, but, to our surprise, we heard their bugles calling 
" boots and saddle," and saw the colonel with two or three 
squadrons of his men come dashing down on the regiments. 
That officer, in a loud voice, asked for the commander of the 
regiment. He stepped forward and asked what was wanted. 
The colonel of the cavalry demanded that these men be arrested 
and punished, and if they were not he would arrest them him- 
self; and suiting the action to the word, he pressed his line for- 
ward till their horses stood between our stacks of guns. The 
boys of the ist Michigan and 20th Maine had received orders 
to take arms and fix bayonets. The result was the cavalry was 
handsomely repulsed with the loss of a number of horses. The 
colonel's had been bayoneted six or eight times and had to be 
shot, along with others. The brigade commander advised the 
cavalry colonel to move his regiment away or some of them 
might get killed. 



6oi — 



We then went into camp and remained there until May 20. 

On the following day we marched through the city of Peters- 
burg. This was a very interesting day's march to us. For 
several miles before we reached the city our line of march was 
inside the rebel defenses, and there we saw the lines of forts 
and breastworks which had so long defied our advance. In 
the distance we could see long lines of fortifications behind 
which we had so long laid, and also the signal tower our engi- 
neers had erected near Hatcher's Run. As we were passing 
through Petersburg we 
had the pleasure of see- 
ing our beloved com- 
mander, General G. K. 
Warren, standing in 
the crowd who were 
reviewing us. The 
men of the 5th Corps 
were wild and rushed 
out of the ranks and 
seized him by the hand. 

The corps had not 
been satisfied with his 
removal, considering it 
both cruel and unjust. 
There were a great 
many rebel officers in uniform standing in the crowd. 

We were soon upon the turnpike that connects Petersburg 
with Richmond. It was a broad pike and in good condition. 
At night we halted within ten miles of Manchester, a small city 
situated on the banks of the James River opposite Richmond. 
Next day we marched to Manchester and encamped just at its 
edge, where we had a fine view of the city of Richmond. Here 
occurred another sutlery downfall. 

An enterprising sutler had worked his way to the vicinity of 
the night's bivouac. His energies assured him better treat- 
ment. He evidently belonged to another regiment ; among 




FIVE O'CLOCK TEA. 



— 602 — 

strangers and anticipating a " raid " he had applied to Colonel 
Edmunds for protection. Lieutenant George VV. Williams was 
sent with a detail, in compliance with the request, but, tardy of 
movement, by the time he reached his destination there was 
nought to look after save two kegs of nails. The " soldiers " 
had cut the tent ropes and rolled up clerks and proprietor in 
the canvas. It was a well-stocked store, and from the supplies 
of canned goods, cakes and other dainties scattered through 
the regiment it was quite apparent the Ii8th had not suffered 
by the operation. 

The following leaves from the diary of H. H. Hodges give 
an interesting account of the homeward march of the regi- 
ment. 

" May 6. — Moved at 7 a. m., crossing the James River ; from 
the bridge we had a good view of Belle Island and Libby 
Prison. Marched through the principal streets of Richmond 
and past Libby Prison and Castle Thunder in company front, 
reviewed by Generals Meade and Halleck, every man on his 
mettle, doing his best. The streets and windows of houses 
were filled with spectators, whose sullen looks plainly told their 
feelings towards us. The frequent halts and delays of column 
consumed much time, and it was long after noon before we 
were clear of the city. Soon it became evident that the time 
lost in Richmond was to be made up from the rapid manner in 
which we were pushed along ; it looked as if the desire of our 
corps commander was to reach Washington, if possible, by 
daybreak. The report that a wager between the 2d Corps 
staff officers and our own as to which corps would reach its 
destination first was the cause, whether true or not ; gladly we 
heard the well-known voice of General Meade, as he rode by, 
exclaim, ' Why, any one would suppose the war in full blast, 
with the rebels at your heels ! Turn in the first field ! ' Quickly 
we obeyed; it was a beautiful, moonlight night; we went into 
bivouac at IO p. m., near Hanover Court-House, on a portion 
of the old battle-field, fully convinced that General Griffin would 
hold the right of road. 



— 603 — 

" May 7. — Moved at 9 A. m. Passed through Hanover Court- 
House ; crossed the Pamunkey River on pontoons, and biv- 
ouacked at 7 p. m. 

" May 8. — Moved at 7 a. m. Crossed the Mattapony River and 
bivouacked near Bowling Green at 5 p. m. 

" May 9. — Moved at 7 a. m. Passed through Bowling Green, 
and crossed the Rappahannock River near (below) Fredericks- 
burg ; went into bivouac at 4 p. m. 

" May 10. — Moved at 8 a. m. Passing near our old camp of 
the winter of '62, the temptation was too strong, and breaking 
from column many sought their old quarters for a last look. 
How changed ! the tall weeds, rank grass and undergrowth 
overran everything. Here and there the ruins of a chimney, 
or one still standing, around which we had listened to the merry 
jest and cheering words of many a comrade, who at times looked 
forward with fond expectations that they too would be permitted 
to return with us, but, alas ! have fallen on every battle-field 
from Fredericksburg to Appomattox ; freely they gave their 
lives for their country, causing us to close up ranks, press 
forward, until every foe should swear allegiance to the old flag, 
without one star or stripe being missed from its folds. As we 
looked below, to the left of our old camp, the burying ground 
was in view, containing the remains of our comrades whom we 
laid away during our first winter's service. Memories of the 
past crowded fast upon us ; faces and forms were readily re- 
called of those ' who were, and are not.' With heavy hearts 
we left the scene, rejoined the column, and bivouacked near 
Dumfries at 6 p. m. 

" May 1 1. — Moved at 8 a. m. This proved to be the severest 
we had yet performed on our homeward march. The column 
moved rapidly until reaching the Icaquan, about 4 p. m. ; here 
one of the heaviest thunder storms experienced during our term 
of service broke upon us. The stream quickly assumed the 
proportions of a mighty river; pontoons were thrown across to 
facilitate crossing, the approaches to which were nearly knee- 
deep in mud ; crossing and climbing the steep hill on the north 



— 604 — 

side, the sacred soil appeared to have become smooth as ice, 
for with all his care and caution the big-footed fellow above 
would slip, and in downward course bring three or four with 
him ; with curses loud and deep, as they arose from mud and 
water, they would cry, ' Shove that lazy, big-footed devil to the 
rear ! ' Bivouacked at 8 p. m. near Fairfax Station ; it proved to 
be about the worst night during our term of service. Rain, 
mud and cold combined, causing repeated efforts in the morning 
to drive the stiffness from our limbs. 

" May 12.— Moved at 8 a. m. Beautiful, clear morning, with 
a cold northwest wind against us. Moved off at a rapid pace ; 
soon passed Fairfax Station and Court-House ; convinced that 
our tedious march was rapidly drawing to a close, eagerly we 
looked from every hill for the dome of the capitol at Washing- 
ton ; at length our attention was called to cheering from head 
of column ; gaining the point from which the cheers had come, 
there, in full view, it stood, its white dome reflecting the rays 
from the sun, backed by the blue sky in the distance, presenting 
a beautiful sight to our view ; with hearts full of gratitude, we 
thanked God for the privilege of again beholding with our 
eyes what our arms had helped to* preserve for coming ages, 
'A free and united country.' Passed Falls Station, on Alex- 
andria Railroad, and went into bivouac about a mile from the 
station at 4 p. m. Here, for the last time, camp was laid out, 
company streets made, shelter tents pitched, etc., and rest en- 
joyed. Our weary marches, dangers, toils and privations were 
of the past ; but one more, ' Home.' Our stay at this place 
was pleasant, mails regular, full rations, passes readily obtained 
to visit the other corps. Here for the first time we saw the 
great army of General Sherman, which had arrived and en- 
camped on the heights above Alexandria. A spirit of rivalry 
sprang up between the two armies ; each vied to outdo the 
other. The illuminations of camps after dark presented a pic- 
turesque appearance, the hillsides dotted with white, lit up with 
rays from thousands of candles, the loud cheering, shrill notes 
from bugle and soul-stirring fife and drum left impressions that 



— 605 



time cannot obliterate. The government decided that before 
the two great armies lying within sight of Washington were 
disbanded, a grand review should be held in the capital of the 
nation ; preparations of the most elaborate kind were made for 
that event, on the morning of May 24. The grand old Army 
of the Potomac, which for four long years had bared its breast 
to rebel foes, crossed Long Bridge and received a royal wel- 
come from those it had safely defended. What a sight we saw! 
Everywhere our na- 
tional emblem was 
displayed. The ar- 
tillery sent forth its 
thundering notes. 
The stirring music 
of the bands ; loud 
and long continued 
cheering of the peo- 
ple, who thronged 
every available space; 
even innocent child- 
hood was there to 
greet us with flowers, 
and our guardian 
angels, loyal and true 
womanhood, re- 
ceived us with their 
kindly smiles and 
words of welcome. 
With steady tread we marched over the broad avenue, 
receiving one continued ovation. Recrossed the Potomac 
River, and arrived at camp early in the evening. From 
this time rumors of being mustered out were freely circulated. 
Soon the rolls were being prepared. Officers on staff duty and 
detailed men rejoined their companies. June I was our jubilee ; 
what we had long looked for was at hand. Brevet-MajorT. D. 
Chamberlain, mustering-out officer, arrived in camp ; the com- 




CHAPLAIN W. J. O'NEILL. 



— 606 — 

panies assembled in their streets ; anxiously each waited for, 
and eagerly answered to his name as called, and in a short time 
we were mustered out, our drafted men and substitutes being 
transferred to the 91st Pennsylvania Volunteers. On the fol- 
lowing day, June 2, we answered ' Fall in,' for the last time on 
the so-called sacred soil and started for home. As we approached 
Long Bridge, we found the 1st Michigan drawn up side of the 
road to give us their parting salute. The old cheer of the 
Wolverines broke out loud and long, as we filed past; their 
enthusiasm was unbounded; it touched our hearts. 'Twas the 
God-speed of true and loyal men for those who had stood 
shoulder to shoulder through three long years of strife and con- 
flict. Never separated, always brigaded together, we soon 
learned their worth ; equal to any emergency ; bravest of the 
brave ; loyal to the core ; proved by their three terms of enlist- 
ment, and justly the peer of any regiment that ever marched or 
fought in defence of our country's flag ; with hearty cheers we 
returned the compliment; a lingering look, and we parted. 
Crossed Long Bridge ; shook the dust of Virginia forever from 
our feet, and soon reach the cars ; here, while waiting, several 
regiments of Sherman's army bound west in cars, commenced 
to chaff us almost continually from their encampment near 
Alexandria ; they were bragging of what they had done, and 
firing sarcastic remarks at the Army of the Potomac. As this 
was their last chance, they could not let it pass by ; they 
hailed us: 'Hello, what regiment's that?' 11 8th Pennsyl- 
vania Volunteers. 'Where you going?' To paradise, home. 
' Bringing us from the west to wind this thing up.' Oh, that's 
it, is it ? You bummers have lived on the fat of the land. ' You 
fellows ought to have had Sherman with you, he'd settled it.' 
What ! why it took Grant and Sheridan a year to do it. No 
fourth-rate general about Bobby Lee, — fortunately the cars 
moved, at this point, in opposite directions. Left Washington 
about one o'clock, and reached Baltimore at 5 p. m., somewhat 
surprised to find, on leaving cars, the citizens awaiting our 
comincr with ice-water and sandwiches. Passed through Balti- 



— 6oy — 

more in twos to depot, and embarked for last ride in comfort- 
able cars, forming quite a contrast to the cattle cars from Wash- 
ington. Arrived at Broad and Washington Street Depot about 
2 p. m. on the morning of the 3d. Marched down to the 
Cooper Refreshment Saloon, stacked arms, and partook of a 
hearty breakfast, the first square meal enjoyed for years. Re- 
sumed line of march for Camp Cadwallader, passing the resi- 
dence of Lieutenant-Colonel Herring on Vine street, who was 
still suffering from loss of leg at Hatcher's Run, but on ap- 
pearing at window received the hearty cheers of those who so 
often had followed his command. Reached our destination 
about noon, turned in arms and accoutrements, were speedily 
dismissed with orders to report for pay on Monday morning, 
June 5. Promptly we appeared and fell in for pay, and by 
two o'clock the regiment was paid off, as we thought to meet 
no more ; but those who had raised the regiment and so gener- 
ously contributed in every possible way for our comfort at the 
front, The Corn Exchange Association, willed otherwise. A 
grand and elegant banquet was prepared on the evening of 
June 9, at Sansom Street Hall, in honor of our return, at which 
many distinguished citizens were present. Major-Gtnerals 
Meade and Patterson spoke in the highest terms of praise of 
our services in upholding the honor of our country in its 
darkest hour. Next day, June IO, we participated in the re- 
view and reception of returned Philadelphia veterans, thence 
to the Cooper Refreshment Saloon, where the regiment was 
finally disbanded." 

Thus ends the history of the Corn Exchange Regiment of 
Philadelphia. 

Since its pages were begun, the fearless soldier and courteous 
gentleman, Colonel Charles M. Prevost, its first commander, 
has passed away. For a quarter of a century he suffered from 
a disabling wound received at Shepherdstown, while advancing 
in front of the regiment with the colors in his hand. 

Could the remnant of the regiment stand upon parade in the 
field at Indian Queen Lane, each in his place as he stood when 



— 6o8 — 

mustered into the service of the United States, how many and 
wide would be the gaps ! Many, many more than those who sur- 
vive have been mustered by Death into the ranks of the num- 
berless, silent army. 

When the regiment was passing through Washington in 
1862, moving towards the front, one bystander, looking upon 
them, said to another, " These are Men ! " 

From Antietam to Appomattox, whether facing the withering 
fire and outnumbering ranks of the enemy at Shepherdstown, 
or bravely plodding through the mud with Burnside; whether 
moving over the plain beyond Fredericksburg, swept by the 
fires of hell, or breaking their way, pelted by musketry and 
solid shot and shell, through the dense undergrowth of the 
Wilderness, Chancellorsville or Gettysburg; whether scaling 
the heights of Manassas, or crouching, shivering in the pitiless 
cold in the woods, facing the fortifications at Mine Run ; 
whether holding the thin line firmly against the fierce attacks 
of more than double their number, or building breastworks 
and bomb-proofs around Petersburg — during three years of 
peril and cold and hunger and weariness — there was not a mo- 
ment when the words could not have been repeated with em- 
phatic truthfulness, " These are Men ! " 

The struggles, the privations, the wounds, the deaths of those 
who suffered and those who died in the War of the Great Re- 
bellion were not too great a sacrifice for the preservation of a 
country whose two baptisms of blood and fire ought to secure 
its regeneration. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

SOUTHERN PRISONS. 

SERGEANT THOMAS J. HYATT, who was captured in 
the first day's fight in the Wilderness, May 5, 1864, fur- 
nishes the following account of prison-life in the South. After 
detailing the circumstances of his capture, and his adventures 
on the way to Danville, he says : 

" We were marched through the town, that its inhabitants 
might glory in the valor and success of the Confederate sol- 
diers. Men, women and children crowded around to gaze upon 
us. Among the rest was a gray-haired man who, by a badge 
upon his well-worn and tattered hat, informed us that he be- 
longed to the Confederate Sanitary Commission. Judging from 
his appearance the commission was a dilapidated affair. What- 
ever of comfort or help he may have bestowed upon the sick 
and wounded of his own side, curses and denunciations were 
all he gave to us. lie finally became so foul-mouthed in his 
bitterness that an officer ordered him away. He went. 

" Soon a gloomy tobacco warehouse was pointed out to us 
as our quarters. We entered. Two hundred and fifty men 
were crowded into the third floor of the building, and an equal 
number upon the second. A ration of corn-bread was served 
out, and eaten with great eagerness, most of us having been 
without food for two days. 

" Upon making our sleeping arrangements we found that 
after the two hundred and fifty men had lain down as close to- 
gether as possible there was left a passage about a foot wide 
around the room. The window sashes were nailed down, and 
wooden bars nailed across the outside of the windows. One 
of the prisoners, shortly after our arrival, went close to one of 
39 (609) 



f)IO — 



the windows and looked down. A guard saw him, raised his 
musket, and fired ; the ball struck one of the outside bars and, 
lodging in the top of the window frame, remained there as an 
evidence of good intentions and bad marksmanship. 

" The place allowed us for exercise was a yard about twenty 
feet wide by ten deep, in the rear of the warehouse. Twenty 
out of the five hundred confined in the building were allowed 
in it at one time during the day. Our drinking and washing 
water was brought from the river Dan, a muddy creek which 

ran through the town. 

" During our sojourn at 
Danville our rations were a 
half loaf, or about a pound 
and a quarter, of corn-bread, 
a piece of bacon about two 
inches square, and a half 
pint of thin bean-soup for a 
day. 

" Although confined but a 
week in this place, the want 
of ventilation and the crowd- 
ed condition of the rooms 
told sadly upon the health 
of the men. 

" One evening we were 
ordered to be ready to move 
at six o'clock the next morn- 
ing. A Confederate major 
came into the prison, and said that we would all certainly be 
exchanged in less than two weeks. The gloom that had set- 
tled upon us was dispersed in an instant ; some laughed, some 
exchanged congratulations, and all were glad and merry. 

" The next morning we were furnished with two days' rations 
of corn-bread and bacon, and then marched to the cars. On 
the way we passed a high pole from which flaunted the stars 
and bars. It made us fee] our condition as captives most 
keenly. 




SERGEANT THOMAS J. HYATT. 



— 6u — 

" The cars were ordinary freight or box cars, and from sixty- 
five to seventy-five were forced into each car. There was not 
room for all to sit down, even when crowded together so closely 
that the knees and chins of those who were sitting nearly 
touched each other. Those who were standing when the cars 
first started got the chance of resting themselves when others 
rose to ease their joints, which had become numb and painful 
by remaining in the uncomfortable sitting posture. We soon 
found that we weie going in a southerly direction, which made 
our situation still more unbearable, for it destroyed all hope of 
exchange for the time being. 

" We stopped at a station. There was a Confederate hospital 
at the side of the railroad. The guards upon the car we were 
in had jumped off, stepped over to the hospital, and were talking 
to some of the patients who were standing near the door. I 
was sitting on the floor of the car in the doorway, my legs 
dangling down outside, when a boy, seventeen or eighteen years 
of age, in Confederate uniform, with his right arm in a sling, 
came up to the car and said to me, 

" ' What State are you from ? ' 

" ' Pennsylvania.' 

" ' God bless you ! I wish I had got this, fighting on the 
other side.' 

" ' What State are you from ? ' I asked. 

" ' North Carolina. I did not want to come, but they made 
me. I have not heard from father or mother since I left home. 
I am afraid it has killed my mother.' 

" His eyes filled with tears ; he turned abruptly and went 
away. 

" A few miles farther on the cars stopped at a station for 
water. Venders of pies and corn-cakes gathered around, and 
the prisoners looked with interest and affection upon the edi- 
bles ; but as the pockets of most of them were empty they 
were compelled to be content with gazing. One, however, of a 
contemplative turn of mind, with more shrewdness than honesty, 
produced a brass imitation of a gold dollar, received two sweet- 



6l2 — 

potato pies, a corn-cake and five dollars in Confederate money 
in exchange. He satisfied his appetite with the pies and corn- 
cake, and his conscience with the motto that ' all is fair in war.' 
Perhaps so. The Hebrews while they were yet in captivity 
spoiled the Egyptians, and by excellent authority. 

" We at first supposed that our destination was Salisbury, 
North Carolina, then the best, but afterwards the worst prison 
in the Confederacy. Salisbury was reached and passed, and 
then the conviction came to us that we were destined for 
Georgia. 

" We questioned the guards, and they said that we were to 
go to Andersonville. 

"After four or five days of close confinement in the cars we 
arrived at our journey's end. From the railroad we obtained 
a view of the stockade and its inmates. The ground was thickly 
studded with shelters of all descriptions and materials. 

"We arrived at Andersonville on the 22d of May, 1864, a 
day that the few survivors of the eleven hundred men that en- 
tered the stockade on that day will never forget. After leaving 
the cars we marched by a circuitous route to the cleared land 
just outside the stockade. Here we were halted and kept in 
line for over two hours, under a blazing sun, while Captain 
Wirz was cursing us and counting us off. The men were di- 
vided into detachments of two hundred and seventy, the de- 
tachments into messes of ninety men each. Ours was the 5 2d 
detachment, showing that there were, at that time, about four- 
teen thousand men in the stockade. After being counted off, 
we were taken inside and assigned the only vacant part for our 
quarters. 

" The hospital had recently been removed to the outside of 
the stockade, and its former location was the spot given to us. 
Sinks had been covered up with earth, and it was over these 
filth-holes that we put up our shelters — shelters which did not 
shelter. Three of us had the two halves of an army blanket 
stretched over stakes for our tent. At night we laid upon the 
bare ground without covering, except the clothes we wore. 



— 613 — 

Although the "days were hot the nights were cool, and in the 
morning we were chilled through. 

" In damp and rainy weather — and during the month of June 
it rained nearly every day — the ground would be covered with 
maggots emerging from the filth beneath the surface, and at all 
times the most loathsome vermin could be seen crawling in 
every direction. It required incessant care to keep even mod- 
erately free from them. 

" Our rations at first were corn-bread and bacon ; six loaves 
of corn-bread a day for every ten men, and a piece of bacon to 
each man about two inches square. The bacon, though often 
sweet and good, was frequently alive and strong. The bread 
was made of unsifted corn-meal and water, with occasionally a 
little salt. The outside of the loaves would be baked brown, 
while the middle was uncooked. 

" The stockade was built of unhewn pine logs from a foot to 
eighteen inches in diameter and about eighteen feet in length, 
the lower ends firmly embedded in the ground. There was an 
inner fence around the enclosure, at a distance of about twelve 
feet from the outer wall, made of narrow boards nailed upon 
the tops of posts. This was the dead line, and the guards' or- 
ders were to shoot any one who crossed it. 

" There was a gradual descent from each end to the centre 
of the stockade, where the swamp was situated. The creek 
from which drinking or washing water was obtained ran 
through this swamp, and for some time after our arrival we 
were obliged to wade through mud almost up to our knees to 
get to the water. In July a causeway was built to the creek, 
of logs taken from the upper end of the stockade, when it was 
enlarged. 

" The cook-house was built just outside of the stockade upon 
the edge of the creek where it ran in. When the boilers were 
washed the greasy refuse was thrown into the creek, floating 
upon its surface in scales, and making the water so nauseous 
that the prisoners would abstain from drinking it till intense 
thirst compelled them. 



— 614 — 

" The swamp covered about one-sixth of the enclosure, and 
was as filthy a place as can possibly be imagined. At the time 
of our entering the prison no sinks had been dug, and the 
whole surface of the swamp was covered with human excre- 
ments. The exhalations that arose from it were of the most 
sickening and poisonous character, the stench being at times 
almost stifling. If a prisoner had the slightest scratch upon 
his feet or ankles, sores, which eventually gangrened, and often 
caused death, were the almost certain result of passing to and 
fro through this mass of corruption, which it was necessary to 
do, before the causeway was laid, to obtain water. Some of 
those whose limbs were thus poisoned would become unable to 
walk, and could not, for some reason, obtain admission to the 
hospital. It was not an uncommon sight to see one of these 
sufferers lying in the swamp, on the border of the creek, waiting 
for death to release him from torture, the worms eating his 
festering flesh before life was extinct. 

" There were a number of the Belle Isle prisoners at Ander- 
sonville, who had been transferred there before our arrival. It 
seemed hardly possible that men could be as fleshless as some 
of them were, and yet live. The skin seemed to be drawn 
tightly over their bones, their eyes were sunken, their cheeks 
hollowed, their ribs prominent, and the muscles of their arms 
and legs wasted and shrivelled by starvation. We were hopeful 
and listened with credulity to the oft-told tales of parole and 
exchange, but hope had died in them, and they looked forward 
to death as the only escape from captivity. 

" Shooting prisoners for crossing the dead line was not an 
unfrequent occurrence. It happened, generally, at the place 
where the creek ran into the stockade. At this point the fence 
forming the dead line had been carried off in the night, prob- 
ably to assist in making a shelter. The filth from the swamp 
oozed into the creek just inside where the fence had been. To 
get purer water the prisoners would reach a little beyond where 
the dead line had stood. Some of the Confederate sentries, 
more humane than their superiors, pretended not to see them, 



_6i 5 - 

but most of them seemed to take delight in shooting a Yankee. 
Under the circumstances the shooting in these cases was simply 

murder. 

" Cleanliness, among men situated as we were, was an im- 
possibility. A few of the prisoners, who had managed to se- 
crete their money before entering the stockade so effectually 
that the Confederate officers did not find it, could afford to pur- 
chase soap The others could only wash themselves and their 
garments in the greasy water of the creek. During the ten 
months of my imprisonment rations of soap were issued three 
times, the whole amount to each prisoner not exceeding a 
quarter of a pound. . 

"Twenty-five cents in Federal money would buy a piece ot 
soap about an inch and a half square and half an inch thick. 
A ration of corn-bread and bacon would procure the same 
quantity. It was home-made, and a very inferior article. In 
dicing some of the wells a greasy clay was found and used as 
a substitute. Corn-meal siftings were also used, and with good 

effect 

" " The tents or shelters of the prisoners were made of almost 
every material. Those who were fortunate enough to have 
blankets stretched them upon stakes after the manner of tents 
Some ripped up their overcoats and all other clothing tha 
could be spared, and then stitched the pieces together, that 
they might have something to protect them from the intense 
heat of the sun by day, though still exposed to the chilling air 
of the nights. Some, by saving daily a part of their rations, 
and selling it, procured pine slabs about four or five feet in 
length and eight inches wide from the colored prisoners. I nese 
were taken out to work every day, and brought the slabs in with 
them when they returned at night. The slabs were used in the 
construction of huts, or shebangs as they were called in the 
dialect of the stockade. A hole the surface size of the intended 
hut, and from one to three feet deep, was dug, crotched sticks 
were driven into the ground at the centre of both ends of the 
excavation, and a cross-pole placed in the crotches. The lower 



— 6i6 — 

ends of the slabs were buried in the ground, the upper resting 
upon the cross-pole. The slabs were covered with a layer of 
earth three or four inches deep, and a front and rear wall of 
mud built up, with an opening in the front wall for a doorway. 

" During the early part of our imprisonment at Anderson- 
ville there were (ew without shelter of some kind, but the 
number of prisoners increased so rapidly during the month of 
June, that even were they supplied with the means, there was 
not room enough in the dry part of the stockade to put up 
tents for all. Numbers, driven by the heat of the sun to seek 
shelter, dug up the grounds in the high portion of the swamp, 
and built huts of the mud, living there in the midst of the filth 
and stench. 

" Thousands were without protection from the sun by day, 
and the heavy dews and chilling air by night. From the 1st 
until the 22d of June it rained every day — sometimes only a 
shower, and again a continuous rain for ten or twelve hours — 
and the shivering forms of those who were without shelter 
might be seen at any time during the night pacing the passages 
between the tents, or crouching over a fire made of a few 
splinters of pine wood, for which they had exchanged half of 
their ration of the previous day. 

"About half way up the hills, on both sides of the swamp, 
there was a passage wide enough to admit a wagon, extending 
from each of the two gates to the opposite side of the stockade. 
These streets were called ' Broadway.' With the exception of 
Water street, which ran along the side of the stockade next to 
the gates, from the Broadways to the creek, these were the only 
thoroughfares in the stockade. 

"The two Broadways were the business streets of this city 
of enforced population. On pieces of boards in front of the 
shelters the stocks of the dealers were displayed. 

" Many of the articles offered for sale had ' run the blockade ;' 
that is, had been smuggled into the stockade by the Confed- 
erate sentries for a consideration. The sergeants who came in 
to superintend the roll-calls, and thus prevent the drawing of 



— 6iy — 

rations in dead men's names, were most of them inoculated 
with the trading fever with which every Yankee is infected. A 
trader wanted a bag of Ghooka peas, onions, or some other 
commodity. The sergeant told him at what post and at what 
hour of the night the bargain could be completed. To that 
post and at that hour the trader went, the money for the pur- 
chase fastened in a long white rag tied to a stick, so that the 
parcel could be easily seen in the darkness. After attracting 
the attention of the sentinel he would throw the stick over the 
stockade. The sergeant, in waiting, picked it up, and, if the 
amount of money was found to be correct, mounted the sen- 
tinel's tower, and threw the article or articles purchased and the 
stick and rag back into the stockade. 

" One of these dealers, or ' sutlers,' as they were called, had 
half a dozen onions, about the size of a walnut, which he of- 
fered at the rate of three for a dollar (greenback). Onions were 
scarce, and their value was greatly enhanced by their usefulness 
in scurvy, a disease with which more than one-half of those in 
the stockade were afflicted. Another had a bag of Ghooka 
peas, a few plugs of tobacco, and a quarter of a bar of soap cut 
up into small pieces. Some had buckets of corn-beer, made 
of soured corn-meal and water, which they retailed at five cents 
a cup. Here and there was a shirtless, shoeless, hatless, ca- 
daverous Belle Islander, holding a ration of bacon on a pine 
splint, endeavoring to sell it, that he might purchase an onion 
or potato to counteract the effects of the scurvy. 

" In front of some of the tents were men with boards, known 
among those conversant with gambling as ' sweat-boards.' As 
it is not to be supposed that the reader is at all acquainted with 
such things, I will describe the game. Figures from one to six 
are marked along the lower edge of the board. The player 
places the money he wishes to bet upon one of these figures. 
The banker, or owner of the board, throws three dice from the 
box upon the board. If the uppermost side of any one of the 
dice has the number of spots upon it represented by the figure 
upon which the player has placed his money, he wins, and the 



— 618 — 

banker pays him a sum equal to that which he has staked. If 
two of the dice have the number uppermost, the banker pays 
him double the amount of money he has ventured. 

" At these boards there were many illustrations of the ter- 
rible fascination of gambling. Prisoners sold their rations and 
clothes to obtain money for stakes. Several times, in the course 
of a few days, I noticed a thin, delicate young fellow playing at 
one of the boards. His soul seemed to be in the game. Go- 
ing to the creek one day for water, I saw him lying on the edge 
of the swamp, dying. Doubtless he had starved himself to 
obtain the means of playing. 

" Most of the bankers kept the dice upon the board with the 
box over them while waiting for customers. One of the pris- 
oners, who had doubtless been accustomed to sharp practice at 
home, bit the biters in the following manner: Holding a five- 
dollar bill between his thumb and forefinger over the box, hid- 
ing the box from the banker, he would ask the banker if he 
could change the bill, at the same time tipping the box up with 
his little finger, so that he could see what numbers were upper- 
most. If the banker answered in the affirmative he would bet 
two or three dollars upon the number he had seen, receive his 
money and walk off to play the trick upon some one else. ■ 

" Besides the regular shops, or sutlers, on the Broadways, 
itinerant venders were scattered through the streets. One had 
half a dozen needlefuls of thread, another a penknife, a pocket- 
book, a spoon, or a tincup for sale ; some had bean-soup, others 
rations of corn -bread or bacon; others offered various articles 
of clothing — the property of a dead comrade, or the proceeds of 
a robbery committed the night before. 

" Theft was a common occurrence, and constant vigilance 
had to be exercised to prevent the loss of clothing and blankets 
by those who were fortunate enough to possess them. The 
thieves, of whom there was an organized band, emboldened by 
long success and immunity, became more and more daring in 
their operations. The corner of a tent would be lifted up and 
blankets pulled off of the sleeping inmates. A man who 



— 619 — 

had a watch or other valuable article would wake in the night 
and find a person leaning over him and holding a razor at his 
throat, threatening to kill him if he made the least outcry or 
resistance, while the companions of the thief would take his 
money and whatever else suited them. At different times the 
dead bodies of men who had been robbed and murdered were 
discovered. 

" This band of thieves, or raiders, as they were called, had 
their quarters near the southern gate of the stockade. One 
day some lately captured prisoners came in. Among them 
was a sergeant who had a watch. The raiders attacked and 
beat him and robbed him of his watch. The sergeant went to 
the gate and asked to see Captain Wirz. The captain came ; 
the sergeant stated his case, and asked if redress could not be 
obtained. Wirz sent half a dozen guards with him, and said 
that if he could point out the men they should be arrested and 
tried. When the prisoners heard this, those of them who 
had been robbed pointed out different members of the gang 
and aided the guard in taking them. Over one hundred were 
arrested ; the ground under their tents was dug up and a large 
quantity of stolen property recovered. In digging under the 
tent of the leader of the gang the bodies of two men who had 
been murdered were found. 

"A jury was impanelled from the sergeants of the detach- 
ments, and after a fair trial six of the raiders were sentenced to 
be hung. A scaffold was erected inside the stockade, near 
their former quarters, and the sentence was carried into effect. 
This salutary punishment checked, to a great extent, the depre- 
dations of the remainder of the gang. 

" When one of these fellows was caught in the act of pilfer- 
ing the cry of ' raider ' was raised, the offender secured and put 
under guard until morning. He was then taken to one of the 
barber shops and the hair and beard, if he had any, cut and 
shaved from one-half of his head. This gave him a very sin- 
gular appearance and marked him unmistakably as a thief. 
After this operation he was mounted on a rail, or any fitting 



— 620 — 

substitute if it had a sharp edge, and carried through the streets 
and passages, the prisoners pelting him with mud or anything 
that was handy. If the raider was foolhardy enough to have 
the other half of his head and face shaved to avoid the shame, 
he was forthwith paddled. A shingle, bored with holes about 
an inch apart, was vigorously applied to his person, in such a 
manner that it was not pleasant for some time afterwards for 
him to rest himself by sitting down. It was a painful punish- 
ment, as every blow raised a number of blisters. 

" Before the hanging of the ringleaders there were many 
fights between the raiders and the rest of the prisoners, in 
which the raiders, from being organized, were generally the 
victors. 

" Frequent attempts were made by individuals and parties to 
escape. In some few instances they were successful. Every 
day twelve or eighteen men from each detachment went out, 
under guard, to bring in the wood allowed to the prisoners. 
Some of these squads disarmed the guards sent with them 
and made their escape ; but the alarm was soon given, the 
bloodhounds put upon their track, and their equally brutal 
masters, aided by these ferocious beasts, were generally suc- 
cessful in recapturing them. One of the prisoners who had 
escaped in this manner and was retaken was punished by being 
put in the stocks for twenty-four hours and then sent into the 
stockade. He told me that he and a companion in his flight 
had stopped at a house, to which they were tracked by the 
hounds. There was a balcony to the house, and as their pur- 
suers entered at the door they ran out upon the balcony, in- 
tending to jump to the ground; but the hounds were in front 
of the house and they saw that escape was impossible. Their 
captors ascended to the balcony and forced his comrade to leap 
down among the dogs. One of them seized him by the leg, 
tearing the flesh and muscle from the bone. His brutal captors 
laughed at his sufferings and taunted him by remarking that 
he would not be likely to run away again. 

" Many of the men who were paroled to work outside of the 



621 — 

stockade, in the cook-house and to cut wood for the use of the 
prisoners, ran away, and a few, after secreting themselves for 
weeks in the daytime and travelling at night, subsisting upon 
berries and roots, and occasionally getting food from the colored 
people, who aided them as far as lay in their power, succeeded 
in reaching our lines in safety. 

" Several times there were tunnels dug under the stockade, 
and some escaped in this manner. 

" Esau sold his birthright for a mess of pottage ; Judas be- 
trayed the Saviour of the world for thirty pieces of silver. 
When a tunnel was nearly finished some traitorous scoundrel 
would sell his brethren to the Confederates for a plug of 
tobacco, a piece of bacon, or a parole of honor to work out- 
side. 

" The way of tunnelling was as follows : The occupants of a 
tent near the dead line would be sounded as to their willingness 
to make an attempt at escape. If they were favorable to the 
project, a number joined together and gave one or more rations 
of bacon apiece, to be fried out and used for lighting the exca- 
vators while at work. The grease from the bacon was put into 
a tincup, with a wick of cotton material placed in the centre ; 
this formed the lamp. A meal bag was procured, if possible, 
and if that could not be obtained, a bucket, pieces of cloth 
sewed together, or anything that would hold the earth was 
used. Commencing in the centre of the tent, the tunnel was 
dug perpendicularly, or with a slight inclination, until it reached 
the depth necessary to pass under the stockade. It was then 
dug horizontally to a distance of thirty or forty feet beyond the 
stockade, and then up again to the surface. Each man who 
had an interest in the tunnel worked two hours every night, 
one filling the receptacles with earth and others carrying them 
to another part of the stockade to mislead the Confederates in 
case they suspected the existence of the tunnel. 

"Another method was to dig a well. After getting to the 
depth of thirty feet or more, a tunnel was dug in the side, the 
earth from which was thrown into the well at night and taken 



— 622 — 

out the next day. The Confederates were informed of them 
before they were completed, and, consequently, a search was 
made for shovels and the digging of wells was prohibited. 

"At one time there was a combination of over a thousand 
prisoners, bound by a solemn oath not to reveal the project to 
any one until everything was ready for its consummation, who 
had formed a plan for the release of all the prisoners in the 
stockade. A tunnel was to be dug large enough for three men 
to pass out abreast. A hundred of the strongest and bravest 
were to creep out first, capture the artillery and turn it on the 
Confederate camp. Then the prisoners were to make a general 
attack upon the guards. After overcoming them and getting 
possession of the camp and arms, a forced march was to be 
made to Smithfield, to take possession of the rebel arsenal and 
stores there, and then make for some point on the coast of 
Florida where a United States squadron was stationed. The 
leaders, it was said, had communicated with the fleet through 
prisoners outside the stockade who were upon parole, and had 
received from the commander assurance of all the assistance it 
was in his power to give. 

" The tunnel was started ; men worked in it night and day. 
It was nearly completed, when a Confederate lieutenant and 
several men marched into the stockade and went straight to 
the spot where the tunnel commenced. Some one had violated 
his oath and betrayed his comrades. Had the tunnel been 
finished and the first hundred men got out the plot would, 
probably, have been successful. 

" During the whole time of our imprisonment at Anderson- 
ville wood was scarce. At first cooked rations were issued to 
all the prisoners, and the want of wood was not felt so severely 
as afterwards, when raw meal instead of corn-bread was served 
out to us. A piece of pine wood eighteen or twenty inches in 
length and three or four inches broad was worth twenty-five 
cents. A large stick of pine cord-wood was a day's ration for 
ninety men. Imagine a stick of cord-wood cut up into ninety 
pieces, and one of those pieces made to cook a day's ration of 



— 623 — 

meal. It required economy of the closest character, and we 
were often compelled to eat the mush or the cakes that we made 
hardly warmed through. 

" Sometimes an extra quantity of wood was obtained by 
trading a ration of bacon or some article of clothing for it, and 
the possessor would indulge in the luxury of dumplings and 
coffee. The dumplings were made by mixing the corn-meal 
with warm water, moulding them into little lumps, and then 
dropping them into boiling water ; as soon as they floated they 
were done. For coffee the corn-meal was browned on a tin- 
plate and then boiled. 

" For upwards of two months our rations were corn-bread, 
bacon, a little boiled rice, and a very little salt. This diet, the 
exposure to the weather, and the vermin which infested our 
clothing tended to weaken us and produce disease. One after 
another sickened and died. Scurvy, which had hitherto been 
confined mostly to the Belle Islanders and those transported 
to Andersonville from other prisons, became prevalent among 
the men who had entered the stockade with us. About one- 
half the prisoners had diarrhoea. The minds of many gave way 
under the suffering to which they were subjected ; they made 
no effort to keep their persons clean or to free themselves from 
the vermin which increased upon them with fearful rapidity ; 
they sank into a state of listless apathy, and, knowing that 
Death was striding towards them, welcomed him as a friend, 
instead of shrinking from him as from an enemy. 

" No medicines could be obtained for the sick unless they 
were taken outside of the stockade into a pen built for the 
purpose and were prescribed for by the doctor. After the 
morning roll-call the sergeant of each mess collected the sick 
together and took them to the south gate of the stockade. 
Those who were able walked and those who were not able were 
carried — some in blankets, some on boards, and some on the 
backs of their stronger comrades. There were sometimes sev- 
eral hundred of these poor sufferers waiting for hours in the 
broiling sun for the gate to open that they might be admitted 



— 624 — 

to the pen. Some fifteen or twenty of the weakest would be 
admitted to the hospital ; the rest, after being prescribed for, 
returned to their tents. Almost every day some of those car- 
ried to the gate died before reaching their shelters again. In 
the afternoon the sergeants went to the pen to receive the medi- 
cine. About half the time they were told there was none. 
When they did receive it, it was in such small quantities or of 
such inferior quality as to do but little good. Vinegar, acids, 
and a tea made of sumach berries were the remedies for scurvy; 
white-oak bark tea and opium pills for diarrhoea. 

" The prisoners carried their dead comrades out of the stock- 
ade to the dead-house, a small brush structure which could be 
seen from the northern hill of the prison. There the corpses 
which were collected during the day were left till next morning, 
when they were taken away in open army wagons. The bodies 
were stripped of every article of clothing that was of any value; 
they were then thrown into the wagon, one above the other, 
until it was full — heads, legs and arms often hanging over the 
side and scraping against the wheels as they revolved. 

" The burial ground was a large field. Trenches seven feet 
wide and six feet deep stretched across it. The bodies were 
laid side by side in the trench and the earth thrown over them. 
Those who are buried there were the victims of a systematized 
cruelty that would have disgraced the dark ages, perpetrated 
in a Christian country and by civilized men. Libby, Belle Isle, 
Andersonville, Salisbury and Florence, have made crimson 
stains upon the fair name of the South that can never be erased. 
It is but just to say that the sufferings and deaths of the pris- 
oners in these places lie at the doors of the civil authorities of 
the Confederacy, of whom Jefferson Davis was the chief, and 
that the brave men who were fighting her battles at the front 
were not in the least degree responsible for them. 

" Those who carried the bodies of their comrades to the dead- 
house were allowed, as they returned, to pick up pieces of wood 
and carry them in. Wood was so scarce that when it be- 
came evident some poor fellow was about to expire a crowd 



— 625 — 

would gather around, disputing, before life was extinct, as to 
who should have the privilege of assisting in carrying him out. 
To those who have never felt the terrible gripings of hunger or 
shivered over the blaze of a few splinters, this may seem in- 
human and repulsive, but I have seen sensitive and refined men 
so hardened by the sufferings they had undergone and the 
misery they had witnessed as to strip the dead bodies of their 
clothing and sell it to procure food. 

" From the 23d of May to the middle of June the prisoners 
increased in numbers from fourteen to upwards of thirty thou- 
sand. Every place upon which it was possible to put up a 
tent or shelter was covered, and thousands were compelled to 
sleep in the passage-ways between the tents, on the two road- 
ways, or on the edge of the swamp near the creek. Those 
who were driven* to occupy the latter sleeping-ground were 
obliged to strip themselves in the morning and shake the mag- 
gots from their clothes, that locality being alive with them. 

"An addition to the stockade was built at the northern end, 
and on the 1st of July an opening was made through the upper 
end of the old stockade into it, and a number of detachments, 
among them the one to which I belonged, were assigned 
quarters there. There had been a number of large pine trees 
standing in the new part when it was enclosed ; these had been 
cut down and laid upon the ground, and as soon as we were 
admitted there was a general rush for the wood. For a time 
we had a good supply, and carried on our cooking operations 
proportionately. During the night of the 1st the sound of 
chopping did not cease. In the morning there was nothing to 
be seen of the old northern end of the stockade. 

" There was an attempt made to have the tents in the new 

stockade put up in regular rows, with streets running north 

and south between each mess, and wide avenues running east 

and west between each detachment. It was a failure, and the 

prisoners located themselves where they pleased to, without 

regard to the detachments or messes to which they belonged. 

"Almost as soon as the new stockade was opened some of 
40 



— 626 — 

the detachments began to dig wells. Several of them were 
completed, but the rest were stopped by order of the Confed- 
erates, tunnels having been found leading from some of them. 
There was a kind of red clay taken from these wells which was 
used for building ovens. The occupants of the tent, or she- 
bang, next to us commenced putting up one of these ovens, but 
a report spread that the Confederates would begin to parole us 
on the 5th of July and continue until we were all paroled. Our 
neighbors discontinued work until that time. The oven was 
never finished. 

"After a while the supply of wood again became short. The 
trees were all burned up. Squads of men dug up and split up 
the stumps that had been left in the ground, following the roots 
and unearthing them until they were not half an inch in diam- 
eter. Every morning before sunrise men went around the camp 
picking up chips that were not more than half an inch square 
nor thicker than a twenty-five cent piece. 

" The prisoners now began to die off so rapidly that the 
authorities changed our diet somewhat. Rations of fresh beef, 
that sometimes looked very much like mule flesh, molasses, 
and occasionally corn-vinegar, were issued. A quarter of a 
pound of fresh beef, or a gill of molasses, a day was allowed to 
each man. Rations of boiled beans were also issued. They 
were not screened or picked, but were emptied into the boilers 
just as they were in the bags. Pieces of pods, worms, bugs, 
sand and beans were boiled together. Fortunately we were 
not epicures. The beef was fly-blown and tainted, oftentimes, 
when it was brought into the stockade. Unless its odor was 
too strong it was eaten. 

" By the 4th of July, on which day we sang patriotic songs 
with the mirth of despair, our clothing was more than shabby. 
Many of us were without shirts, the sleeves of our blouses 
hanging in shreds above the elbows, our pantaloons patched in 
every part and scarcely reaching to the knees. We were also 
without shoes or stockings. 

" On the 4th of August I went down to the creek to wash. 



— ■ 627 — 

After washing I had gone but a few steps on my return when 
I was seized with excruciating pains, dizziness, and faintness. 
A man belonging to a detachment located near my own offered 
to help me to my quarters. He put his arm around me, but 
after we had gone a few steps I begged him to stop and leave 
me where I was while he went to inform my tentmates. There 
was a tent occupied by some sailors near where he left me. 
They helped me out of the sun into the shade of their tent and 
brought me a drink of water. This was an unusual act of 
kindness to a stranger, for want and suffering had made the 
most generous selfish. Two of my tentmates came. With 
their assistance, going a few steps at a time and then resting, I 
finally reached the line of the old stockade, completely ex- 
hausted. There they left me in the tent of a friend, Sergeant 
Thomas, of the 20th Maine. After resting for some time, with 
the help of the sergeant and one of his comrades, I reached my 
quarters about two o'clock in the afternoon. I started from 
the creek at eight o'clock in the morning, and had been six 
hours in getting a distance of about a quarter of a mile. 

" I soon became unable to walk, and moved around by sitting 
on the ground and hitching myself along by the aid of my 
hands. Jack Atkins, of the 76th New York, whose tent was 
opposite ours, was like a brother to me. In that place, where 
money represented life, he gave me onions, grapes, Irish pota- 
toes and other things which had been smuggled into the stock- 
ade, and which only money could obtain. 

" Every day some of my comrades raised me up until I stood 
on my feet, but after taking a step or two my legs became rigid. 
Then they laid me down on my back. This simple effort 
caused the most acute pain while on my feet, and suffering for 
hours after; but I could not bear the thought of losing the use 
of my limbs, and determined that, if I did, it should not be due 
to want of exertion on my part. 

" From the 4th to the 29th of August I was carried, about 
every other day, to the south gate of the stockade to be pre- 
scribed for ; a weary labor of kindness for those who conveyed 



— 628 — 

me thither, and a tedious, painful, and dreaded journey to me. 
Lying in a blanket or stretched upon a plank, slowly and ten- 
derly my overburdened comrades bore me through the narrow, 
winding passages between the tents down the hillside to the 
swamp, along the causeway, across the bridge, and, stopping 
now and then to rest, up, up, up to the gate, there to lie in the 
sun until Confederate humanity or pleasure opened the gate 
and permitted them to carry us out into the pen where the 
physicians prescribed for us. 

" The scene at the gate cannot be described. It seems to 
me now more like a horrid dream than a reality. From one to 
five hundred sick were brought there every morning. The 
bloated faces and swollen limbs of the scurvy patients, the 
skeleton forms of those wasted by fever and starvation, the 
ulcer-eaten, gangrened limbs, the filthy, tattered garments, the 
despairing, upturned looks of the anguish-stricken sufferers, 
formed a picture which the arch-fiend, gloating over human 
misery, must have gazed upon with frenzied delight. 

" On the 29th of August I, with others, was admitted to the 
hospital. It had been a pleasant place before it was put to its 
present use, and even now the green trees which stood here 
and there casting their shadows over the tents, and the view of 
the wooded swamp with its tangled undergrowth beyond, were 
so different from the barren, shadeless stockade that, weak and 
exhausted as we were, a strange thrill of hope and pleasure 
shot through our frames. 

" The prisoners in the hospital were better clothed than those 
in the stockade. As comrades died the wardmasters, who 
were appointed from our own men by the Confederates, dis- 
tributed among the most needy of the survivors the clothing 
left by the dead. By this means many of those who were al- 
most naked when they came into the hospital were quite com- 
fortably clad by the time they were returned into the stock- 
ade cured. 

*' There were four divisions in the hospital and five wards in 
each division. The doctors were extremely negligent. While 



— 629 — 

each doctor was supposed to visit his patients every morning, 
two and sometimes three days intervened between their profes- 
sional calls. Frequently they merely looked at a tentful of 
patients and ordered the medicine they had been using to be 
continued, regardless of their condition. There was one ex- 
ception, Dr. McCants, of Florida, who visited every patient 
under his charge once, and those who were very low twice, a 
day, and had a kind, cheering, or sympathetic word for each. 
His voice was music and the sight of his face a bit of sunshine 
to the sick prisoners. 

"About the 10th or 12th of September a member of Com- 
pany I of the 118th was brought into the hospital and placed 
in a tent opposite to mine. He was suffering from dropsy and 
the doctor gave him little hope of recovery. He grew worse 
rapidly. It was evident his end was near. One morning, about 
one o'clock, I was awakened by some one shaking me by the 
shoulder and saying: ' Come, sergeant, get up; mother is just 
out here by the wagon ; come and see her.' It was poor Ful- 
lerton, delirious. I soothed him, led him to his tent, and per- 
suaded him to lie down. At daybreak 'I went to his tent 
again, but the battle of life was over and he had received his 
discharge. 

"About this time one of the men in our tent who had so far 
recovered that he was able to walk relapsed for want of nourish- 
ing food and died. He was delirious through the night and 
was constantly asking for food. ' Oh, Mary, I am so hungry ; 
do cook that quickly for I can't wait. Give me just a little 
more. What have you got in the house to eat ? I am almost 
starved! They starved us there.' Muttering fragments of 
the Lord's Prayer, intermingled with horrible profanity, he 

passed away. 

" In the month of September the removal of prisoners from 
Andersonville began. A few were exchanged, the rest trans- 
ferred to other prisons. As each detachment went away its 
sick were put in barracks inside the stockade which had been 
recently built. They were barn-like buildings about fifty feet 



— 630 — 

long and eighteen feet wide, with two rows of bunks upon each 
side. The description of their condition after the sick had been 
in them a week, as given by an eye-witness, is too disgusting 
to be repeated. 

" The occupants of the barracks were admitted to the hos- 
pital as room was made for them by death. The barracks 
were warmer than the tents in the hospital, and the vitality of 
the poor, emaciated sufferers was so slight that the chill night- 
air produced a stupor in which most of them slept away their 
lives in a few days. 

" Every morning there would be a number of corpses ex- 
posed in the streets between the wards, nearly nude, having 
been stripped of their garments to clothe the living. Their 
faces, haggard and gray, and their limbs and bodies gaunt and 
shrunken in life, were still more ghastly in death. 

"About the 1st of November a number of convalescents, in- 
cluding myself, were taken from the hospital at Andersonville 
to the stockade at Millen, Georgia. It was a two-days' journey. 
It was a different place from Andersonville. Though there 
were eight thousand prisoners in it when we arrived, not more 
than one-sixth of the enclosure was occupied by their shelters. 
A swift stream of pure, cold water, which had its source in 
springs just outside the wall, ran through the centre. It was 
bordered by no reeking swamp whose poisonous vapors pol- 
luted the air, but its grassy banks were lined with grand old 
trees, beneath whose overhanging branches the prisoners prom- 
enaded during the day and evening. The water of the creek 
near its entrance was used for drinking and cooking, farther 
along for washing and bathing. Wood was plentiful. Nearly 
all of it being pitch-pine, our faces and arms were soon dyed 
with the greasy smoke. Our original color after a few days 
was a matter of conjecture. 

"After a sojourn in this comparative land of delight for two 
weeks we were again packed in the cars and taken to Black- 
shear, near the borders of Florida. Three days of abundant 
rations of corn-meal with some fresh beef, and then a thousand 



- 63 1 - 

of us held up our hands, swore not to take up arms against the 
Confederate States of America until duly exchanged, and were 
taken to Savannah to be put on the Union vessels lying out- 
side of the harbor. Here the Confederates told us we would 
be under our own flag in two hours. A train .ame alongside 
of the one we were in. Put aboard of it, with despondent hearts 
we proceeded towards Charleston. Reaching that place, an- 
other train took us to Florence, South Carolina, a place, if pos- 
sible, worse than Andersonville. 

" I became a partner in a dug-out, or shebang, with two 
others, a Kentucky cavalryman and an Iowa infantryman. It 
was a dwelling of a better class than was usual at Florence. 
The daily ration was small. A little more than a pint of corn- 
meal, apparently cob and corn ground together, and about once 
a week a teaspoonful of salt. This could be eaten at a meal 
and not satisfy the craving hunger, which daily grew greater. 
I remember staying awake all through one night trying to catch 
a mouse. 

" One day a Confederate major came into the stockade with 
some friends. One of them had a dog. When they started to 
go out the dog could not be found. The next morning his tail 
lay on the ground near the swamp. 

" One afternoon — the last Thursday of November — we had 
received our daily ration of meal, to which by this time had 
been added about three tablespoonfuls of ghookas, or cow peas, 
had cooked and eaten them, and were sitting on the ground 
floor of the shebang, our eyes listlessly turned towards a rude 
bas-relief upon the chimney, which was meant to represent a 
human figure. In a moment of art enthusiasm the Kentucky 
cavalryman had fashioned it when the chimney was put up. 
It would have made a tobacconist's Indian split its wooden 
sides with laughter. But our thoughts were as sallow as our 
faces. 

"After a time the Iowa man spoke: 'Boys, it must be 
Thanksgiving Day at home, and my folks are just about 
through their dinner. I don't believe they cared much for it.' 



— 6?>2 — 

" We were silent a while. Then I spoke :' Well, boys, we 
mustn't think about home, or any one there. That means, if 
we keep it up, death and a place in the trench. I want my 
bones laid in Pennsylvania. I know we have had a mean 
Thanksgiving dinner, and it does seem as though we had to 
look around a little to find something to be thankful for; but 
we are alive yet, and we may get home, after all. Thanksgiv- 
ing's gone, but if we live until Christmas we can have a dinner 
and won't be hungry after we have eaten it' 

" ' How ? ' inquired my two companions, eagerly. 

" ' We won't feel much hungrier than we do now if we each 
put by a spoonful of meal and a spoonful of ghookas every day 
from now until Christmas, and I think our savings will make a 
dinner that will be satisfying.' 

"After some discussion as to the relative strength of our 
appetites and our wills, it was decided to lay by our six spoon- 
fuls of food every day, all agreeing that the spoonfuls should 
not be heaped, but even. I dreamed that night of feasting on 
all the good things in the way of food that I had ever heard of 
or eaten. The next morning we made two bags of generous 
size. In the afternoon, when our rations came, we put three 
spoonfuls of ghookas in one bag and three spoonfuls of meal 
in the other. Every succeeding day the bags received their 
portion, and were felt of affectionately to find out how much 
they contained. 

" Christmas morning, after being long waited for, came at 
last. The first faint light of the morning found us stirring. 
We had hoarded our fuel, saving a little every day. It was not 
an easy thing to do, for the daily fuel ration of ninety men was 
three sticks of pine cordwood of average size. To. this supply 
we had added by picking up every splinter as large as a tooth- 
pick, and every chip as large as a ten-cent piece, that we dis- 
covered in our wanderings around the stockade. 

"The occupants of a shebang near our own, in addition to 
the usual cooking utensils — quart kettles and tin or sheet-iron 
pans — possessed a gunboat. This was a piece of old roofing- 



— 633 — 

tin made into a pan more than a foot long and about six inches 
wide and deep. The corners where the tin had been cut off or 
turned in were soldered with corn-meal. It was not sightly, 
but was convenient. We had bargained beforehand for the use 
of this gunboat. 

" The fire was lighted. The ghookas had been soaked the 
nighty before and were now put in the gunboat, covered with 
water, and the gunboat was set over the fire upon two mud 
bricks made for the occasion. A watched pot may not boil, 
but a watched gunboat did ; for three heads bent forward, and 
six eyes gazed intently upon the contents of the vessel over the 
fire, until the water was bubbling and the peas dancing in and 
out among the bubbles. 

"At short intervals a few peas were taken out in a spoon and 
allowed to cool, and a pea was tasted by each of us and judg- 
ment given as to its being done. Finally we were unanimous 
in the opinion that the ghookas were cooked enough. Meal 
was brought forth and stirred in, and the pudding was allowed 
to remain on the fire until it had thickened, so that there was 
danger of its being scorched. The peas were dark-skinned 
and had given the pudding a purplish hue. The gunboat was 
lifted off and set on the ground to cool. While we were wait- 
ing the fire was renewed. Corn-meal, saved for the purpose, 
was put in a pan and thoroughly dried and browned. This 
corn coffee was divided into three portions, put in three quart 
kettles and boiled. 

"At last our dinner was ready. The gunboat was put on the 
ground in the centre of the shebang and we sat around it. 
Two of us had small tin pans and one a flat piece of sheet-iron 
for plates, and each had a spoon. Not one of us would have 
been called a religious man, but we hesitated, looked at one 
another, bowed our heads and were still. Only a moment; 
and then the Kentuckian volunteered to act as host and helped 
us and himself. 

" When dinner was over the contents of the gunboat and 
quart cups had disappeared, and it was just noon. After such 



— 634 — 

unusual exertion we lay down, drew our blankets over us and 
slept. We were awakened near night by a neighbor, who 
called to us that we might get our rations. After returning to 
the shebang the Iowa man said : ' Boys, I'll think of that din- 
ner as long as I live. Why, I ain't hungry yet ! ' 

" But the dinner was only a momentary flash of light, and 
the gloom and despondency settled upon us again. 

" It was customary for the very sick prisoners to go outside 
of the dead line every morning at nine o'clock. The doctor 
would come in from the Confederate quarters outside and pass 
along in front of them. If he stopped and faced one of the 
prisoners that one was sure to be paroled if he asked the doctor 
to parole him. One morning I went outside with others. The 
doctor came along the line. Before he reached me he had 
paroled but two out of perhaps forty. When he came to the 
spot where I stood he turned around and faced me. Thoughts 
of home and all that the word means rushed into my mind. I 
tried to speak but was powerless. My emotion choked me. 
After gazing at me a moment the doctor passed on. I stag- 
gered back to my shelter and threw myself, face downwards, 
upon the ground. For once will, hope, love of life, deserted 
me. 

" From Florence the prisoners were taken to Wilmington, 
North Carolina, thence to Goldsboro, back again to Wilming- 
ton, just as Fort Fisher was attacked, and the same day re- 
turned to Goldsboro. After reaching Goldsboro the second 
time, while marching to the camp prepared for the prisoners, I 
fell in the street, unable to go farther. One of the guards said : 
' Come, Yank, get up or I'll stick yer ! ' at the same time feint- 
ing a lunge with his bayonet. As I did not move, in fact could 
not, he and the rest passed on and left me. An ambulance 
soon came and took me to the Confederate hospital at Golds- 
boro, where, had I been in the hands of my own relatives, I 
could not have received more tender care than I and other 
prisoners did from the attending doctors and the ladies of 
Goldsboro. Every nourishing delicacy that was attainable was 



— 635 — 

provided. For two weeks I did not leave my cot. Then by 
the aid of a stout stick I managed to totter around the hospital 
for a few minutes every day. While in this condition, one of 
the doctors came into the hospital one morning and announced 
that all who could walk to the depot would be paroled. They 
would carry us, he said, but all the horses had been taken for 
the army. 

" It seemed to me that it was now or never. Getting off my 
cot and dressing myself with shaking hands, stopping now and 
then and sitting down to get my breath, I succeeded in that 
operation. Then grasping the stick I set out. How I got to 
the depot I scarcely know. I do know that I had to drop on 
the sand after every few steps and rest, and that the latter part 
of the journey, the whole of which I do not think was a half 
mile, was exceedingly painful. I reached the cars — freight 
cars — and lay upon the floor, hardly heeding that the train had 
started, when some one cried : ' There's our flag ! ' I did not 
know that I had loved it as much as I did until that moment. 

" Some colored soldiers came with a stretcher, laid me upon 
it and bore me towards our boat. In a moment, as I lay upon 
the stretcher, I caught sight of the Flag — our Flag ! It was a 
moment of supreme gratitude and happiness. 

" I reached Wilmington, and after staying there some weeks, 
gradually improving, I began to be impatient for my turn to 
come to be put on board of a vessel and taken to Fortress 
Monroe. It did not come. One morning I quietly walked up 
the gang-plank of a steamer that was going to start that day 
and got on board without being questioned. From Fortress 
Monroe I was taken to Camp Parole and went home on a 
thirty-days' furlough." 




Major-General George G. Meade. Of all the commanders 
of the Army of the Potomac General Meade was the most successful, 
and of that small group of men who stand forth as the pre-eminent 
leaders of the Union armies, no one deserves a warmer place in the 
affections of the American people than he. His bravery and ability 
have been universally acknowledged and appreciated. 

We remember General Meade as a tall, spare man, with broad 
shoulders, high forehead, and prominent features. He had not the 
dashing appearance of many other generals, but when we saw that 
tall form, enveloped in a great brown overcoat, riding to the front, 
we always felt safe. He was conservative and moderate, cool and 
sagacious, patient and brave. On the Peninsula, at Antietam, 
Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, he displayed such qualities that 
the Government was justified in giving him command of its princi- 
pal army in the most critical hour of the civil war. To him belongs 
the honor of the victory at Gettysburg, and the fact that he retained 
the command of the Army of the Potomac through the succeeding 
campaigns, possessing to the fullest extent the confidence of General 
Grant, is proof of his ability as a commanding officer. 

(636) 



SKETCHES. 



Charles Mallet Prevost, Colonel of the 118th Pennsylvania 
Volunteers, Brevet Brigadier-General U. S. Volunteers and Major- 
General of the National Guard of Pennsylvania, was born in Balti- 
more, September 19, 1818. His paternal descent was from an old 
Huguenot family which was compelled to leave France upon the rev- 
ocation of the Edict of Nantes and took up its abode in Switzerland, 
and from that descended the Sir George Prevost who commanded 
the British forces in Canada, and also the American branch. General 
Augustus Prevost, Sir George's father, distinguished himself at Sa- 
vannah during the revolutionary war. General Prevost from youth 
manifested a deep interest in everything pertaining to military life. 
For several years he was on the staff of his father, General A. M. Pre- 
vost, of Philadelphia, Upon the breaking out of the rebellion he as- 
sisted in the formation of the Gray Reserves, taking the position of 
Captain of Company C. He was subsequently appointed Assistant 
Adjutant-General of Volunteers on the staff of General Frank E. 
Patterson, and served through the Peninsula campaign, participating 
in the battles of Yorktown, Williamsburg and the seven days' battle, 
down to Harrison's Landing, whence, prostrated by the fever then 
prevailing, he was ordered home. During his convalescence he was 
selected by the Corn Exchange to command the 118th Regiment, 
which was being recruited. In the disastrous fight in which 
the 1 1 8th was engaged at Shepherdstown he received a terrible 
wound from which he never recovered. He rejoined his regi- 
ment and served through the Chancellorsville campaign, but was 
compelled to leave soon after. He was then commissioned Colonel 
of the 1 6th Regiment Veteran Reserve Corps, and had charge 
of the Confederate prisoners at Elmira, New York, and subse- 
quently of a large rendezvous camp at Springfield, Illinois. He was 
honorably discharged June 30, 1865, and received the brevet 

(637) 



- 638 - 

of Brigadier-General United States Volunteers. After the war he 
was appointed to the command of the First Division, National 
Guard of Pennsylvania, with the rank of Major-General. He died 
November 5, 1887, as the result of his wound, having been for some 
time previous to his death partially paralyzed and deprived of his 
sight. His heroic endurance of suffering excited the love and 
admiration of his friends. 

Brevet Major-General James Gwyn was born in Ireland, at 
Londonderry, November 24, 1828. His parents were Protestants 
and he received a liberal education at Foyle College, and emigrated 
to the United States, selecting Philadelphia for his residence. Here 
he entered the employ of Stuart Bros., of which George H. Stuart, 
famous during the war as President of the Christian Commission, 
was senior member. In April, 1861, he served as Captain in 23d 
Pennsylvania Regiment on the Peninsula and in front of Richmond. 
July 22, 1862, he resigned to accept commission as Lieutenant- 
Colonel of the Corn Exchange. He was mustered into service with 
this regiment as Lieutenant-Colonel, August 16, 1862. He partici- 
pated in its first engagement at Shepherdstown, Virginia, where 
the regiment fell into an ambuscade and was fearfully decimated ; 
he also participated in the battles of Fredericksburg, Chancellors- 
ville and Gettysburg. At the close of these campaigns he was pro- 
moted to Colonel of the regiment, November 1, 1863, having suc- 
ceeded Colonel Charles M. Prevost, who had been seriously wounded 
at Shepherdstown, September 20, 1862, and resigned, September 30, 
1863. May 5, 1864, in the first day's fight in the Battle of the 
Wilderness, he was severely wounded in the right thigh. He 
rejoined his regiment in front of Petersburg, Virginia. At Peeble's 
Farm, September 30, 1864, Colonel Gwyn as senior officer com- 
manded the 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 5th Army Corps. He led 
forward his men with gallantry and captured two earthworks and a 
fortified line, and for this meritorious behavior he was breveted a 
Brigadier-General. At Five Forks, April 1, 1865, in the famous 
charge, General Gwyn's brigade captured a large number of prisoners 
and many battle-flags, and as a reward he was promoted to the rank 
of Brevet Major-General. At the close of the war he was mustered 
out of service with the regiment, June 1, 1865. He then returned 
to mercantile pursuits with his old employers, Stuart Bros., but after 



— 639 — 

a time, failing in health, he retired and is now in the Soldiers' Home 
at Hampton, Virginia. Brevet Major-General James Gwyn enjoyed 
the reputation of having been a patriotic citizen, a gallant soldier, a 
handsome and accomplished officer, and a bold and aggressive 
leader. He was by nature impulsive and sometimes revengeful, with 
likes and dislikes, characteristic of his race, strong and exacting. 
These traits won him many warm friends, and at the same time 
made him many bitter enemies in the regiment. 

Charles P. Herring, Colonel of the 118th Regiment Pennsyl- 
vania Volunteers and Brevet Brigadier-General, was born in the 
city of Philadelphia. Until the opening of the rebellion he was en- 
gaged in mercantile pursuits. In June, 1861, he became Second 
Lieutenant of Company C of the Gray Reserves, commanded by 
Captain Charles M. Prevost. In May, 1862, he acted as Adjutant 
of the battalion under Colonel Charles S. Smith in its service in 
quelling the Schuylkill county riots. In August, 1862, he was com- 
missioned Major of the 11 8th Regiment and commanded the camp 
for recruits in Indian Queen Lane, near the Falls of the Schuylkill. 
After recovering from the wounds which terminated in the loss of a 
leg at Dabney's Mills, February 6, 1865, he sat upon a general court- 
martial convened in Philadelphia, and soon after his muster out of 
the service in June, 1865, was appointed Brigade Inspector of the 
National Guard, in which capacity he was influential in resolutely 
maintaining a high standard of excellence. In a remarkable degree 
he had the confidence and friendship not only of his own command 
but of his superior officers. General Barnes, in allusion to his loss 
of a limb, said : " You bear with you the evidence of the peril of 
the field. This gives me no cause for surprise; for I had seen you 
at Shepherdstown, at Fredericksburg and Gettysburg." "Gallant 
and ever reliable as an officer," says that bold soldier, General 
Griffin, " he was humane and considerate towards those under him, 
always being solicitous for their welfare. On the field of battle, or in 
camp, his manly bearing won for him the friendship of all. His 
record is one that he not only should feel proud of, but his State 
should prize as belonging to one of her sons." " With a moral 
courage," says Major-General Chamberlain — late Governor of Maine 
— who served with him, "scarcely excelled by his physical daring, 
he won and held my perfect confidence and love." 



— 640 — 

Lemuel L. Crocker was born near Albany, New York, in 1829. 
He was educated for a commercial life. In 1851 he came to Phila- 
delphia. August 16, 1862, he entered the service as lieutenant of 
Company C, and after the death of Captain Saunders at Shepherds- 
town, succeeded to the command of Company K. Captain 
Crocker's record was a most honorable one throughout the period 
of his service and won for him the respect of his fellow-officers and 
the love of the soldiers of his company. He resigned, February 26, 
1S64. Shortly after the war he removed to Buffalo, New York, and 
took charge of the Central Railroad cattle depots. He also engaged 
largely in the manufacture of fertilizers. He died a few years since. 
Crocker was a man of the highest integrity, a citizen devoted to all 
public interests and a friend whose heart was not to be surpassed 
for kindness, benevolence and that charity which overlooketh 
faults. 

Surgeon Joseph Thomas was born near Doylestown, Penn- 
sylvania, June 15, 1830. He received his education in private 
schools. From 1847 to l &53 ne was engaged in teaching. He then 
commenced the study of medicine under the preceptorship of Dr. 
Wm, Hunt, of Philadelphia, and graduated at the University of 
Pennsylvania in the spring of 1855. He at once commenced the 
practice of medicine. About two years before the war he organized 
a military company called the Applebachville Guards and was com- 
missioned captain. In the early part of 1861 he offered his company 
for active service. The offer was accepted, and it became Company 
H, 3d Regiment, of the famous Pennsylvania Reserves. At Charles 
City Cross-Roads Captain Thomas was seriously wounded in the 
breast. His life was saved by the ball striking and perforating a 
book which he carried in his pocket. He resigned from the service 
at Harrison's Landing, July 7, 1862. Recovering from his wound, 
he was, August 15, 1862, commissioned as surgeon of the 118th. 
He served with the regiment as chief medical officer and surgeon 
of the brigade until the spring of 1863, when he was assigned to the 
field hospital of the 1st Division, 5th Corps, as surgeon in charge. 
He displayed great energy and ability in organizing this new branch 
of the medical service. Dr. Thomas's attainments as a surgeon 
commanded wide recognition. He added to this a reputation for 
true courage. Probably no officer of the regiment commanded a 



— 641 — 

larger measure of respect and confidence. His deportment was 
always marked by intelligence and dignity, and he was consequently 
approached with that deference which was due to his rank, but his 
genuine kindliness won the friendship of all who knew him. He 
was mustered out with the regiment June 1, 1865, and re-entered 
the service for a short period as surgeon of the 826. Pennsylvania Vol- 
unteers. After finally leaving the service he was appointed Assist- 
ant Assessor of Internal Revenue and continued in that position for 
five years. During this time he moved to Quakertown and resumed 
the practice of medicine. In 1870 he was made Cashier of the 
Quakertown Savings Bank. In 1879 ne was m ade President of the 
Quakertown National Bank, which position he still retains. In 1879 
he was elected to the State Senate, in which position he made an 
honorable and distinguished record. Dr. Thomas is remembered 
affectionately by the regiment, and his appearance among them is 
always greeted with enthusiasm. 

Henry O'Neill was born in Londonderry, Ireland, in 1828, and 
was educated at Lisborn, near Belfast. In 1847 ne joined an infantry 
regiment stationed at Madras in the service of the East India Com- 
pany and was in this service twelve years, serving through the Sepoy 
rebellion. After the termination of this war he received his discharge 
and in i860 came to this country. 

Other mention of Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel O'Neill than has 
been so fully set forth in this volume would be surplusage. 

Ex-United States Senator Alexander G. Cattell was born 
at Salem, New Jersey, February 12, 1816 ; engaged in mercantile 
pursuits in his native town until 1846 ; was elected to the New Jer- 
sey Legislature in 1840, and in 1844 was member of the convention 
to revise the State Constitution, being the youngest member of that 
body. Removed to Philadelphia in 1846 and was engaged in mer- 
cantile pursuits and banking in that city for forty years ; was a mem- 
ber of both branches of City Councils, an early President of the 
Corn Exchange Association, and in 1857 organized the Corn 
Exchange Bank, of which he was President for thirteen years, and is 
now President of " The New Jersey Trust and Safe Deposit Company 
of Camden." He was elected United States Senator from New 
Jersey in 1866 and declined a re-election, which was tendered him, 
41 



— 642 — 

on account of his broken health ; appointed by President Grant a 
member of the first Board of Civil Service Commission and 
afterward was Financial Agent of the United States in London, 
1873, l8 74- 

Mr. Cattell was chairman of the Corn Exchange Committee 
through whose instrumentality this "118th Regiment" was called 
into existence, and was distinguished for his patriotic services 
throughout the civil war. When the Corn Exchange Regiment left 
Camp Union for the front, his fellow-members of the committee 
purchased the flag-staff and flag that waved over the men in camp, 
which they removed and planted, with appropriate ceremonies, on 
the lawn of his residence at Merchantville, New Jersey, where it still 
stands, a valued souvenir of both the Corn Exchange Association and 
the Corn Exchange Regiment. 

Alfred Macqueen was born in England, March 24th, 1840. 
Philadelphia has been his residence the last forty-five years. He 
enlisted at the formation of the regiment and took part in every 
battle and skirmish in which the regiment was engaged. He was- 
wounded at Shepherdstown and Fredericksburg and had his haver- 
sack shot away in the Wilderness. His present occupation is the 
manufacture of heaters and ranges at 3935 Lancaster Avenue. 

Captain Francis Adams Donaldson was born in Philadelphia, 
June 7, 1840. He was enrolled as a sergeant of the 71st Regiment,. 
Pennsylvania Volunteers (Baker's California Regiment), May 26, 

1 86 1, and was mustered into the service June 4, 1861. He was taken 
prisoner at Ball's Bluff, October, 1861. His conspicuous gallantry in 
this engagement was rewarded by promotion to a second lieutenancy, 
May 1, 1862. He was severely wounded at Fair Oaks, May 30, 

1862. Upon his recovery he was mustered out to accept the cap- 
taincy of Company H, 118th. He was honorably discharged, Janu- 
ary 14, 1864. 

Captain Donaldson was an officer of marked ability and courage. 
Intelligent, of cultivated tastes, peculiarly cheerful, friendly and 
generous in disposition, he was very popular both with the men and 
his brother officers. His youthful appearance coupled with his 
soldierly, dignified manner, made him a conspicuous and striking 
figure. 



— 643 — 

Joseph Ashbrook, sergeant 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers, 
August 4, 1862; wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., September 
20, 1862 ; second lieutenant, March 26, 1863 ; first lieutenant, June 
6, 1864 ; captain, November 8,1864 ; brevetted major United States 
Volunteers, July 6, 1864, " for gallant and distinguished services at 
the battles of Bethesda Church and during the present campaign 
before Richmond, Va. ; " served upon the staff of General Bartlett, 
commanding 3d Brigade, and subsequently as ordnance officer upon 
the staff of General Griffin, commanding 1st Division. Major Ash- 
brook was of that class which fitted him to be ranked among the 
strong men of the times ; of culture, with attainments, of fine 
soldierly bearing, his presence commanded respect and his courage 
admiration. As ordnance officer he had the distinction of being 
detailed to receive all the arms and munitions of war of the Army 
of Northern Virginia at Appomattox in April, 1865. 

Albert Henry Walters. Private, 23d Pennsylvania Volunteers, 
August 2, 1 86 1 ; discharged for promotion, August 31, 1862 ; first 
lieutenant, 11 8th Pennsylvania Volunteers, September 1, 1862 ; cap- 
tain, February 10, 1864 ; resigned and honorably discharged, Feb- 
ruary 13, 1865. 

Brevetted major United States Volunteers July 6, 1864, " for gal- 
lant and distinguished services at the battles of Bethesda Church, North 
Anna, and during the present campaign before Richmond, Va. " 

Major Walters was specially fitted for a soldier's calling. Some 
of his performances were really the work of a master in the profession 
of arms. At the time of the war, just of the age for gallant deeds, 
he possessed the sterling courage for their execution. Walters' 
record with the 11 8th Pennsylvania entitled him to most honorable 
mention. He had come to the regiment with some knowledge of 
war gathered in the 23d Pennsylvania Volunteers. 

Albert Haverstick. Enlisted as a private in Company H, 
118th, August 15, 1862. He was honorably discharged at Head- 
quarters Army of the Potomac, June, 1865. He served with his 
company and regiment until January, 1863. On detached service 
in charge of Adjutant-General's office, 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 5th 
Corps, until the fall of 1863, when, by order of General Meade, he 
was assigned to duty at Headquarters Army of the Potomac, and 



— 644 — 

after a few months' duty as clerk was assigned as chief clerk in 
charge of Adjutant-General's office, Army of the Potomac. He was 
present at all the subsequent battles, being assigned to the special 
service of writing and transmitting the orders of General Meade to 
the several corps, for the movements of troops. Nearly every order 
during the years 1864, 1865, for the movement of divisions and corps 
was written by him, from orders written or dictated by General 
Meade. At the close of the war, by special order of the Secretary of 
War, he was assigned to duty with General Meade at Philadelphia, 
in preparing and arranging the records of the Army of the Potomac 
before their transmission to the War Department. 

Captain Joseph Wattson Ricketts was born January 16, 
1836, in Baltimore, Md. He was educated at the Military Academy 
at Sing Sing, N. Y. ; was a member of the 1st Regiment National 
Guard of Pennsylvania. He recruited Company K and was its cap- 
tain. He was killed at Shepherdstown, Va., September 20, 1862. 

The captain had a presentiment of his death just before crossing 
the Potomac on the morning of the battle. He called a few of his 
friends around him and said, li The regiment will soon be in battle, 
and I shall not live to recross the river, for I certainly shall be 
killed." He requested that his effects be looked after in just as cool 
a manner as if at home dictating his will. His death occurred 
precisely as he had previously described. 

Captain John Scott was born in Glasgow, Scotland, June 11, 
1829. While yet a child his parents emigrated to this country. 
He was by trade a carpenter. At the breaking out of the rebellion 
he left at home a wife and three children while he entered the ser- 
vice to defend his country as a private. He passed various grades 
to captain of Company I, 11 8th Regiment. During his military 
career he was much esteemed by his men and the officers of the 
regiment as a soldier and gentleman. At the battle of Dabney's 
Mills, February 6, 1865, he was mortally wounded, and his body fell 
into the hands of the enemy and was never recovered. His wife 
and one daughter still survive. 

Nathaniel Bayne was born at Newark, Delaware, September 
24, 1840, and was educated at Newark Academy. He enlisted 



— 645 — 

August 6, 1S62, in Company C, 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers; 
second lieutenant Company I, March 1, 1863; first lieutenant 
Company A, October 27, 1863 ; captain Company I, August g, 
1864 ; wounded at Dabney's Mills, February 6, 1865 ; mustered out 
with regiment, June 1, 1865. He now resides at Wilmington, 
Delaware. 

The average of intelligence and education in the 118th was re- 
markably high. The exceptional circumstances under which the 
regiment was organized drew many bright young men to its ranks. 
Among these was Nathaniel Bayne. Belonging to a neighboring 
State, he was almost an absolute stranger. Like many others, he 
was quick to discover that he was the equal in qualifications to com- 
mand of many who held authority over him. But not the less cheer- 
fully was deference and strict obedience shown by him to his 
superiors. Patriotic duty was not to be performed by seeking posi- 
tions of honor and distinction. All could not be officers, and the 
enlisted man was rendering as necessary and important service as 
the officer who commanded him. But it was impossible that a man 
like Bayne should not rise. His intelligence, his soldierly appear- 
ance, his dignified bearing, and his splendid courage were certain 
to command attention. His successive promotions seemed so 
natural, that while they pleased every one they surprised no one. 

Charles F. Dare was mustered into Company H on the 8th 
of August, 1862, and immediately received the appointment of 
hospital steward. In October, 1863, he was detailed as steward 
of the 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 5th Corps Hospital. In April,. 
1864, he was detailed as executive steward of the 1st Division, 5th 
Corps Hospital, and served in that capacity until the close of the 
war. He was mustered out with the regiment. He was present in 
his official capacity in every movement in which the regiment was 
engaged, excepting the battles of Antietam and Shepherdstown, 
having been left at that time at Fort Cochran, with about sixty sick 
men. Since the war he has been engaged in the drug business at 
Bridgeton, New Jersey. 

First Lieutenant Henry T. Peck. Private 118th Pennsyl- 
vania Volunteers, August 7, 1862 ; sergeant, August 9, 1862 ; ser- 
geant-major, January 27, 1864; first lieutenant, February 2, 1864. 



— 646 — 

Detailed and on duty as regimental adjutant ; temporarily detailed 
and on duty as aide-de-camp. He is now, at the age of forty- 
eight years, living in Germantown, Philadelphia, where he is a 
regular practitioner of medicine. 

Peck was cool, methodical, systematic and of the staying kind, 
whether in action or in his office. What was to be accomplished 
was thoroughly done before he had ceased to do with it. 

Sergeant Augustus Luker was born in Boston, Massachusetts. 
Enlisted August, 1862, and was mustered out with the regiment. 
Present with and participated in all engagements of regiment during 
its term of service. His present occupation is chair-making. He 
resides in Philadelphia. 

Captain John R. White. At the outbreak of the civil war 
Captain John R. White joined the second company State Fencibles, 
recruited at 505 Chestnut street, and the company was assigned to 
the 18th Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers (Colonel Lewis). He 
served as a private during his enlistment (three months), being sta- 
tioned at Federal Hill, Baltimore, until near the close of the three 
months, when, volunteers being called for to guard transports to 
Washington, he, with about two hundred others, volunteered and 
served a month over their time, when, having been mustered out 
of service, he returned to his home, and, the Corn Exchange having 
decided to raise a regiment for three years, he at once enrolled in a 
company being recruited in West Philadelphia by Courtland Saun- 
ders. He was appointed orderly sergeant as soon as mustered in, 
and served in that capacity until the battle of Shepherdstown, where, 
both commissioned officers present for duty (Captain Courtland 
Saunders and Second Lieutenant J. Rudhall White) having been 
killed, Orderly Sergeant White was promoted to second lieutenant 
by special orders from Corps Commander General Fitz-John Porter, 
and placed in command of his company (G). He served through 
the war, being promoted to first lieutenant and finally to captain, 
and was mustered out with the regiment at the close of the war. 

Sergeant Hiram Lake was born in Philadelphia, April 25, 
1845. ^ e served to the end of the war with the regiment. He is 
by trade a coach painter. He now resides in Philadelphia. 

Richard Wistar Davids, son of Benjamin and Rebecca Davids, 



— 647 — 

was born in New York, August 30, 1825 ; was educated by private 
tutor and visited Europe at the close of his studies. He was in no 
business, but gave his time to the useful and fine arts. At the 
breaking out of the war he joined the Gray Reserves and afterwards 
became a member of the Corn Exchange Regiment. 

Daniel B. Cobb was born in Philadelphia, March 25, 1844; 
received a public school education; enlisted as sergeant in 118th 
Pennsylvania Volunteers August 2, 1862; wounded July 1, 1864, 
near Petersburg, resulting in the resection of the ulna bone from 
elbow to wrist. He was discharged on account of wounds April 14, 
1865, and is now engaged in the plumbing and gas-fitting business 
-at 15 1 2 South Fifth street, Philadelphia. 

Samuel Nugent enlisted as a private August 18, 1862; pro- 
moted sergeant November 1, 1864; mustered out with the regiment 
June 1, 1865. He was detailed as ordnance sergeant of the division, 
and his services in that position commanded the approbation of his 
superiors. 

Nugent was a brave and efficient soldier, and displayed an unusu- 
ally intelligent appreciation of his duties. He was noted for keen 
and careful observation. Even under the pressure of the hottest 
engagements nothing seemed to escape his notice. His well-stored 
memory of details enabled him to contribute important particulars 
in the preparation of this history. 

Alfred Layman was born in Philadelphia, June 28, 1844. He 
was by trade a carpenter. He enlisted in the 118th as private ; was 
promoted corporal and sergeant ; participated with the regiment in 
all the battles to the end of the war. He received a slight contused 
wound at Shepherdstown and at Gettysburg. A few years after the 
close of the war, having a liking for the profession of medicine, he 
■entered and was graduated from the Hahnemann Medical College 
of Philadelphia, and is now a regular practitioner at 1630 North 
Eighteenth street in his native city. 

First Lieutenant James J. Donnelly. Lieutenant Donnelly 
was born in Belfast, Ireland, February 14, 1844. He came to this 
•country with his parents when quite young and settled in Philadel- 



— 648 — 

phia. He had a fair common school education. He enlisted as a 
private in Company C, n 8th Pennsylvania Volunteers, August 7, 
1862, and was promoted sergeant January 19, 1864. He was pro- 
moted to first lieutenant May 1, 1865, and was transferred to 91st 
Pennsylvania Infantry June 1, 1865, and was mustered out July 10, 
1S65. 

Lieutenant Donnelly's honesty and kindliness made him very 
popular from the beginning. His splendid courage displayed on 
so many fields challenged admiration and respect. His record is 
one of which his children may well be proud. His present address 
is Atlanta, Georgia. 

Major-General Charles Griffin was the popular and brilliant 
commander of the 1st Division of the 5th Corps until the removal 
of General Warren, when he was placed in command of the corps. 
No officer in the army could have been more dearly beloved by his 
men than General Griffin. He was a tall, slim, well-built man, and 
rode very erect, with his head well thrown back, and with his long 
sharp chin well advanced to the front. In the field he paid little 
attention to dress, and his rank was indicated principally by the 
gold cord around his felt hat ; his face was shaved smooth, while his 
lip was adorned with a heavy moustache. General Griffin was one 
of the finest-looking officers in the army. Always kind, pleasant 
and cheerful, his presence even in defeat always seemed like a sun- 
beam. He was as fearless as a tiger, and would lead his division 
anywhere. He had formerly been an artillery officer and conse- 
quently had great faith in that branch of the service. We all 
mourned when his death was announced, several years after the close 
of the war. He died of yellow fever in New Orleans. There were 
but few officers in the Union army more worthy of pr-aise than was 
General Charles Griffin. 

Henry H. Hodges was born in New York city, December 14, 
1829. Enlisted as private in Company D, August 18, 1862. Served 
with the regiment during its term of service ; was appointed second- 
class hospital steward January, 1865, in charge of medical supplies of 
brigade. At present is bookkeeper with William D. Rodgers' Son 
& Co., the well-known carriage builders of Philadelphia, having 
been in their employ almost continuously since 1850. 



— 649 — 

Thomas J. Hyatt was born in New York city, April 24, 1829. 
Was wounded in the shoulder at Shepherdstown, but remained until 
the fight ended. Was made sergeant in March, 1864, to date from 
September, 1863. Was captured in the first day's fight in the Wil- 
derness, May 5, 1864, and returned to the regiment after an impris- 
onment of ten months. Was mustered out with the regiment June 
1, 1865. He is now one of the staff of proof-readers of Harper 
Brothers, New York. 

George W. Williams was born December 7, 1831, in the old 
District of Spring Garden of Philadelphia. Enlisted in Company 
C, August it, 1862, and was made acting fifth sergeant September 
21, 1862. Was appointed first sergeant January 1, 1863, and pro- 
moted first lieutenant Company I, August 10, 1864. Was ap- 
pointed aide-de-camp on brigade staff January, 1865, and as such 
served until the close of the war; present with and took part in all 
engagements of regiment and brigade ; was mustered out with the 
regiment June, 1865. 

Thomas F. Kelly enlisted in Company A, August 13, 1862, at 
the age of seventeen years, and in September, after the battle of 
Shepherdstown, was made acting corporal ; was appointed sergeant 
after the battle of Fredericksburg in December, 1862 ; left general 
guide in October, 1863; first sergeant May, 1864; promoted first 
lieutenant May, 1865, and with other officers and men transferred 
by general orders to the 91st Pennsylvania Volunteers, but, there 
being no vacancies in that regiment, was mustered out to date with 
that of the 11 8th. He took part in every battle, skirmish and 
march in which the regiment was engaged, and was never off duty 

excepting a ten days' furlough in February, 1865. 

• 

James B. Wilson was born and raised in Waynesboro', Penn- 
sylvania. He was apprenticed to the carpenter trade, and at the 
outbreak of the Mexican war in 1846 enlisted in Captain Wm. F. 
Small's company. He participated in nearly all the engagements 
that followed, from the siege of Vera Cruz to the capture of the City 
of Mexico, the capital. At the close of this war he returned to 
Philadelphia and re-engaged in his former vocation. 

At the breaking out of the rebellion he enlisted in Company A 
of the 1 1 8th, and was made first sergeant. He participated in all 



— 650 — 

the battles in which his regiment was engaged. On October 22d 
he was promoted for brave conduct, by special order of General 
Fitz-John Porter, to the rank of second lieutenant, and was assigned 
to Company K, January 12, 1863. He was made first lieutenant on 
account of brave and soldierly conduct in the battle of Fredericks- 
burg, and was assigned to Company B, January 20, 1864. He was 
raised to the rank of captain and was assigned to Company C, filling 
the vacancy in that company caused by the death of Captain Dendy 
Sharwood. At the battle of Peeble's Farm, being the ranking offi- 
cer present, he took command of the regiment and led it into action. 
For meritorious conduct in this fight, September 30, 1864, he was 
promoted to the rank of brevet major. 

He was severely wounded at Gettysburg in the second day's fight, 
July 2, 1863, while engaged in supporting Biglow's battery. On 
recovering from his injury he rejoined the regiment, August 18, 
1863. He was mustered out with the regiment June 1, 1865. He 
is now residing in Philadelphia. 

Captain I. H. Seesholtz was mustered into the " Iron Guards" 
(recruited at Catawissa, Pennsylvania) as a private the day after 
Fort Sumter was fired upon, remaining with the company until the 
fall of 1 86 1, when he resigned his commission, having been pro- 
moted to second lieutenant. He then identified himself with the 
99th Regiment, Pennsylvania Volunteers, entering as a private. 
With this regiment he remained until the summer of 1862, when he 
resigned his commission, having been promoted to a first lieuten- 
ancy, and at once enlisted in the 118th. Here he remained until 
the close of the war. Enlisting as a private, and a total stranger to 
the entire command, he rapidly advanced, by reason of his abilities 
and meritorious conduct, until, when mustered out, he commanded 
one of the best companies in the regiment, Company K. He par- 
ticipated in all the battles of the Army of the Potomac except Fred- 
ericksburg, and was twice wounded — in the arm at Shepherdstown 
and in the hand at Hatcher's Run ; and had the honor of establish- 
ing the last picket line that was maintained between Lee's army and 
the Army of the Potomac. 

Levi Teal, born in Philadelphia, April 22, 1843; enlisted in 
Company C, 118th Regiment, Pennsylvania Volunteers, August 



-6 5 i - 

13, 1862; detailed for duty in the adjutant-general's office, 1st 
Division, 5 th Army Corps, Army of the Potomac, by special order 
number 59, June 8, 1863; mustered out June 1, 1865, near Wash- 
ington, District of Columbia. He resides in Philadelphia. 

Samuel N. Lewis was born in Philadelphia, April 10, 1844. 
At the age of eighteen he recruited Company E, n 8th Pennsylvania 
Volunteers, at the Girard House, and bore all the expense of raising 
the company. He was severely wounded in the thigh at the battle 
of Shepherdstown, September 20, 1862, and on the same date he 
was promoted to a first lieutenancy. Soon after the lieutenant 
became an aide on General Hay's staff, but after a year's service in 
this capacity was honorably discharged on account of wounds and 
sickness. As soon as his strength permitted he went to Europe, 
hoping to regain his health. He returned in 1865 and entered the 
office of John T. Lewis & Bros., where he is to-day a partner. 

Corporal William L. Gabe was born in Montgomery county, 
Pennsylvania, September 12, 1830; enlisted August, 1862; 
wounded severely and taken prisoner at Shepherdstown, Virginia; 
rejoined the regiment four months later and served through the bal- 
ance of the war. Present address : Water Department, Roxborough, 
Philadelphia. He is one of the noble men who figure conspicuously 
in the pages of this work. 

John L. Smith, born in Philadelphia, March 19, 1846; enlisted 
November 10, 1862 ; entered Company K as private; promoted to 
corporal ; slightly wounded at North Anna and Bethesda Church ; was 
with the regiment in all its battles, marches and skirmishes ; mustered 
out July 10, 1865 ; at present publisher of maps and atlases, Phila- 
delphia. 

Sylvester Crossley was born at Norristown, Pennsylvania, 
December 23, 1839 ; enlisted as a private in the 118th Pennsylvania 
Volunteers, and passed the various grades of promotion to second 
lieutenant. He was taken prisoner at Laurel Hill and recaptured 
by Sheridan when near Richmond. He was again captured at 
Bethesda Church, and after enduring imprisonment at Libby, Macon 
and Savannah, Georgia, Charleston and Columbia, South Carolina 
— in all about nine months — escaped and reached Sherman's lines, 



— 652 — 

near Columbia, South Carolina, and marched with his army to 
Fayetteville, North Carolina. He resigned after the surrender of 
Lee. He is now a manufacturer of edge tools, and resides at 1524 
North Garnett street, Philadelphia. 

Adjutant James P. Perot. James P. Perot was born in the 
city of Philadelphia, May 12, 1825. His parents were members of 
the Society of Friends, and he graduated from Haverford College. 
He was very early in life identified with the commission and for- 
warding business. In 1845 ne ma( le a voyage in the ship Geneva 
to China, by way of Good Hope. Upon his return he became 
associated with Mr. Christian J. Hoffman in the flour and grain 
commission business, and at the breaking out of the civil war he was 
one of the originators of the Philadelphia Corn Exchange. He was 
active in the formation by that body of the 118th, and accepted the 
position of adjutant. He was taken prisoner at the battle of Shep- 
herdstown. Upon being released he rejoined his regiment, and 
continued to serve with it until he was compelled by sickness to 
resign. Recovering his health, he assisted in raising the 49th Penn- 
sylvania State Militia, and was commissioned lieutenant-colonel. 
After a short period of service he returned again to business pursuits. 
He died in 1872. 

Colonel Perot, or, as he will always be spoken of by his associates 
of the 118th, Adjutant Perot, was a patriotic man, a faithful, cour- 
ageous soldier, and by his genial disposition won many friends. 

John Michener was born in Philadelphia, November 17, 1843, 
and was educated in the public schools of Philadelphia. He enlisted 
August 12, 1862, as corporal in Company C and served in all the 
campaigns of the regiment and brigade. He is now engaged in the 
banking business; his present address is Philadelphia. 

Rev. W. J. O'Neill, brother of Lieutenant-Colonel O'Neill, 
was also born in Ireland in the year 1832. When appointed by 
Governor Curtin chaplain of the 118th Regiment, Pennsylvania 
Volunteers, he was a young minister of the Methodist Episcopal 
Church belonging to the Wilmington Conference, and junior minis- 
ter of a circuit in Maryland. After the war he resumed connection 
with the same conference. He died at Church-Hill, Maryland, 
March 9, 1887. 



— 653 — 

Joseph Mora Moss, who came of good old revolutionary 
stock, being directly descended from both Robert Morris, the finan- 
cier, and Bishop White, the first Bishop of Pennsylvania, was born 
in Albany township, Bradford county, Pennsylvania, May 17, 1843. 
He was educated in the public and High School of Philadelphia. 

At the breaking out of the war he was about to begin his studies 
with a view of preparing himself to enter the ministry of the Protest- 
ant Episcopal Church. Considering it his duty to his country, he 
promptly answered the call to arms, and was enlisted as second lieu- 
tenant in the 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers. He was killed in 
battle at Shepherdstown, Virginia, September 20, 1862, and was at 
the time of his death nineteen years four months and three days old. 
He was prompt in the performance of his duties, and won the respect 
of his superiors. His early death on the field cut short a career that 
doubtless would have been a brilliant one. 

Captain Dendy Sharwood. No officer of the 11 8th is better 
remembered than Captain Dendy Sharwood. He recruited Com- 
pany C, and was its first commander. 

Captain Sharwood was an Englishman by birth, and was before 
the war engaged in business in Philadelphia. He brought to his 
new profession intelligence, education, extensive knowledge of the 
world, and undoubted courage. What captivated all who knew him 
was his thorough manliness and nobility of character. He was 
admired and beloved by his own men, and respected throughout the 
entire regiment. It was such men as he who gave tone and distinc- 
tion to the old regiment as it left for the front in 1862. 

Captain Sharwood was detailed for some time as acting brigade 
commissary and rendered efficient service in that position. At the 
battle of Rappahannock Station, in the absence of the field officers, 
he commanded the regiment and was distinguished for bravery and 
soldierly conduct Shortly afterwards he was taken ill as the result 
of exposure and died lamented by the entire command. 

Lieutenant J. Rudhall White, born in Warrington, Virginia, 
was about twenty years of age when he joined the regiment. He 
was a lieutenant in the Black-Horse Cavalry (Confederate). Differ- 
ing in sentiment with his friends, lie resigned his commission and 
entered the 118th as second lieutenant. He was a brave and cour- 



— 654 — 

teous officer and gained the respect of the regiment. He was killed 
at Shepherdstown. 

General Joshua L. Chamberlain. This officer entered the 
army as lieutenant-colonel of the 20th Regiment, Maine Volunteers, 
on the 8th of August, 1862, and served continuously in the 1st Di- 
vision of the 5th Corps, finally commanding it, and was mustered 
out of service January 16, 1866, as brevet major-general of United 
States Volunteers. Being of a family of military traditions and pro- 
clivities, and having received the elements of a military education in 
early life, he naturally and rapidly adapted himself to the severe 
ordeal of being called suddenly to a responsible position in the midst 
of a great war, and at its gravest crisis. 

The corps and division to which he was assigned were officered 
very largely from the regular army, and he took advantage at once 
of this opportunity to make himself familiar with his duties and to 
acquire a practical knowledge and skill so necessary to success in the 
field, and which afterwards caused him to be so rapidly promoted in 
rank and command. 

In June, 1863, he was colonel of his regiment. At Gettysburg his 
conduct in the famous defence of Round Top won for him the high- 
est commendation of his superior officers and public fame. In 
August of that year he was placed in command of a brigade. In 
the reorganization of the army corps in the next spring two brigades 
of veterans were consolidated into one and he was called to command 
it while as yet colonel of his regiment in another brigade. In the 
first battle in this new command he was promoted to brigadier-gen- 
eral on the field by General Grant in a special order, which was rat- 
ified by the President and the Senate. 

He was then applied for to command the regulars in the 2d Di- 
vision of the 5th Corps, but the commander of his own division was 
unwilling to have him leave. In Grant's final campaign General 
Chamberlain commanded not only his own brigade, but also the 2d 
Brigade of the division, which was ordered to report to him for the 
campaign. 

His command was closely engaged with the enemy at Appomattox 
Court-House when the flag of truce came in, and at the formal sur- 
render of Lee's army he was designated to command the parade 
before which that army laid down its arms and colors. 



— 655 — 

On the disbandment of the Army of the Potomac he was one of 
the few general officers retained in the service ; and on the reorgan- 
ization of the regular army he was offered a colonelcy with the brevet 
of major-general. Declining these, he was offered several diplomatic 
appointments abroad, but preferred to return to private life. He 
was shortly afterwards elected Governor of Maine by the largest 
majority ever given in that State, and was three times re-elected. 
He was major-general commanding the militia of Maine at the time 
of the political troubles in that State in 1880, when there was for a 
considerable time no legal or acting civil government, and by his 
prudence and command of public confidence he held the peace of 
the State unviolated amidst the plots of contending factions and 
imminent danger of civil war. His masterly conduct in this crisis 
commanded the admiration of the whole country. 

He was Professor of Public Law and President of Bowdoin Col- 
lege for several years. He is an eloquent orator and writer, and his 
services are in much request on important public occasions. 

He had many narrow escapes with his life during the war, having 
had five horses shot under him and himself struck six times by bullet 
and shell, and has enjoyed the unusual privilege of seeing his own 
obituary in the newspapers on two occasions. 

Samuel F. Delany. Born in Philadelphia June 28, 1831 ; 
enlisted as private in 11 8th Pennsylvania Volunteers August 5, 1862 ; 
promoted to color-sergeant ; was slightly wounded at Shepherds- 
town ; mustered out with regiment, June, 1865. 

General Gouverneur K. Warren. It is impossible in this 
brief sketch to do anything like justice to a character and career so 
remarkable as that of General Warren. An officer of engineers in 
the regular army, he accepted a somewhat subordinate position in 
the volunteer service at the opening of the war, and his military 
instincts and solid ability carried him very shortly to the highest 
staff positions of the army, and to the command of more than one 
army corps. 

There is no need to recite the steps of his upward course, for the 
history of the Army of the Potomac is bright with his record of 
honorable service. It is only of late that the country comes to un- 
derstand how much the event of the great battle of Gettysburg was 



— 656 — 

due to his rapid military eye, and his equally rapid power of execu- 
tion. Had Round Top been left to fall into the enemy's hands, the 
fate of the field at Gettysburg would have been far different. 

General Warren's personal appearance was fine. His soldierly 
form, his intellectual countenance, his dark yet beaming eye, im- 
pressed every beholder. As to personal courage, he was brave to a 
fault. Yet he was careful of his men. They all felt that he would 
not sacrifice them ; but they almost blamed him when some des- 
perate movement became necessary, and he insisted on leading 
them. Even when a corps commander, he was everywhere to be 
seen in the thick of the fight, yet holding well in his brain the dis- 
position of his whole corps, wielding it not only as a mass, but as a 
living organism, every member of which had its appropriate place 
and part. 

General Warren was a man of a high order of intellectual 
ability, which commanded universal respect, but his temperament 
was such that those who were not well acquainted with him might 
easily misjudge him. He undoubtedly sometimes allowed himself 
to speak in plain terms his opinion of orders he might receive in the 
midst of a battle, or movement of critical importance, which did not 
harmonize well with the state of things under his own eye and 
affecting seriously his own command. 

There had been irritation towards him at the head-quarters of the 
army on this account before the last famous movement to turn Lee's 
right flank before Petersburg, and General Sheridan, with this hint in 
his mind, and in his impetuosity misjudging Warren's thoughtful and 
intent manner as indicating lack of sympathy with him in his plans, 
took an early occasion to remove him from his command. But 
when the history of that last campaign is fully and faithfully written, 
the great importance of Warren's action on the White Oak Road 
will be apparent, and his conduct in this, as in every other campaign 
of the army, will be set high above doubt or cavil. He went down 
to an early grave with a wounded and broken spirit, notwithstanding 
the fact that a military commission had investigated the act of injus- 
tice under which he had suffered, and had lifted the shadow from 
his fair fame. 

History will give him a bright page on her rolls, and a grateful 
country will appreciate his service and revere his memory. 



APPENDIX. 



LAUREL HILL AND SHERIDAN'S RAID. 

By S. Crossley, Late Second Lieutenant Company H, ii8th 
Regiment P. V. 



OME little experiences that I had in the opening 
of the Wilderness campaign might per- 
haps be interesting, especially as they re- 
late to what I witnessed as a recaptured 
prisoner of war, and hence (off duty) 
a rover and observer. 

The assault at Laurel Hill was at 
sundown, it will be remembered, and led 
us through swamp land and brush and 
miseries of all sorts ere we reached the 
enemy. 

The movement was marie by the 1st 
Division, 5th Aimy Corps, and led, I 
think, by General Crawford, General 
Griffin being absent. However, of one 
thing I am sure, that there did not 
seem to be any proper understanding among the subordinate commanders as to the 
mode of formation, for, though we were really in echelon, it was generally sup- 
posed that we were moving in several lines. "Column in mass!" I distinctly 
remember hearing our colonel giving the order, "Cease firing," and adding: 
" You are firing on your own men.! " We soon had a deadly enfilading fire upon 
us and were soon compelled to withdraw. Now, /did not withdraw, and for the 
following reason : My good people at home resolved that a first-rate thing for me 
to have was a good pair of boots, and, up to the time of the beginning of this 
campaign, I thought it good judgment on their part; but when, after two days' 
march, I discovered one of my ankles rubbed to the bone, bare of flesh, I changed 
my mind. 

As soon as the retreat began the rebels left their works on a run and firing ns 
they ran. I was escorted to the rear in company of one of them who found me 
unable to keep up {hors du combat, as it were) and who asked for my sword with 




42 



( 6 57) 



— 65S — 

the muzzle of his rifle in close proximity to my breast. My response to his over- 
tures seemed satisfactory. But I remember that ere we reached their works 
we were both in danger from Yankee bullets, which gave the lie to a great, gaunt 
specimen of fanaticism who was among the first to follow and who kept exclaim- 
ing : " You can't fight, you can't fight ; God Almighty won't let you ! " 

The next morning, along with about 300 other prisoners, I was marched away 
in charge of a cavalry guard, having first made a trade (with one of its men) of 
my boots for a good pair of English-made shoes. This put me in better marching 
order, but still, had it not been for the kindness of one of the guard in allowing 
me to ride upon his horse while he walked (a display of unwonted chivalry), I do 
not know what would have been the result. 

Shortly after noon it began to be apparent in the manner of the commander of 
the guard, showing nervousness and apprehension, especially after scouts would 
approach him, that something was not right, and I think that if it would have 
been possible to have taken us at a pace equal to that of his horses on a trot it 
would have greatly pleased him 

The sequel to all this was revealed to us about 5 P. M. when in hearing of the 
locomotive whistle of the train which was to have transported us to Richmond 
from Beaver Dam Station. A scout rode up with flushed face and fairly yeiled : 
«' Lieutenant, the Yanks are upon you ! " It then became a risk of life and limb 
to each of us from the hoofs of their flying horses. The chivalric gentleman who 
had loaned me his horse and up to that time was walking beside and chatting 
with me rudely pulled me to the ground with a jerk and fairly sprang to the 
saddle. We got to the field to the left of the road just in time to clear the track 
for the yelling vanguard of Sheridan's raiding expedition in full pursuit and firing 
their carbines after the fleeing guard. It may be imagined that our enthusiasm 
expressed itself in vociferous cheering and by the tossing of hats high in air. In 
a few minutes thereafter we were indulging in a good meal, the components of 
which were the result of the capture of the train aforesaid, which was to have 
carried us away and which was also a supply train for Lee's army. We took the 
best and burned the rest. 

The next morning, awakened by the shelling of the enemy, Sheridan had to 
give them a whipping before we could go forward, which he accordingly did. 

Being by this time unable to walk at all, I was given a horse, but ere the day 
was over had to give place to a cavalryman and had to take the position of ambu- 
lance driver, of which the expedition had a very few. I was now in a position 
to see all that was to be seen and especially to notice the movements of " Little 
Phil," of whom great things were beginning to be expected, the realization of 
which was away beyond the dream of any, except, perhaps, of our great chieftain 
Grant. 

If I might describe the raid as I saw it, tersely and without regard to elegance, 
I would say that it forcibly reminded me of the entry of a bull in a china shop. 
Wholesale destruction was the law that ruled. Everything that could be used 
and carried by us became contraband. Anything that was likely to be of use to 
Lee's army was destroyed. 



— 659 — 

What was the enemy doing the while ? Well, they were trying their best to 
surround and destroy us ; but it was a dismal failure. Sheridan would take a posi- 
tion where he could well observe their movements with his glass, send an aide 
here, another there. There was a roll of musketry (they fought dismounted), 
the roar of artillery for an hour or so, and then we were moving right on towards 
Richmond again. But, as to this place, we came near getting into it when it was 
undesirable to go, through the treachery of the guide (a professed Unionist). He 
led us (by night) up to within a few hundred yards of their works. And I re- 
member a shell that came uncomfortably near my ambulance, and, being so unex- 
pected, came near taking my breath away. The guide was shot on the spot, I was 
informed, and we got away from that quarter in double-quick time. 

The brilliant Jeb Stuart made a most desperate onslaught upon us just as we 
were about crossing the Chickahominy. I think he was killed at this battle. 
They were soon routed and we went on our way to the James river, from which 
the rebels, still following, were shelled by our gunboats. I was here transferred 
and sent to Washington. I shall never forget my impressions of this raid and my 
enthusiasm for its leader will never grow cold. 



A FEW PRISON REMINISCENCES. 

By Lieutenant Sylvester Crossley. 

" HOTEL COLUMBIA." 

It must not be supposed that life was all dull and dreary in that dreariest of 
situations — a Southern prison pen ; nor, in fact, was it the manner or spirit of the 
" Yankee " to consent to remain in such a position ; it is his life to extract all the 
juices that he can find in existence out of it. 

For myself, I endeavored to see light in the darkness through spectacles of the 
ridiculous and grotesque, finding it conducive to hygiene. 

I would just state, to begin with, that when brought to Columbia, South Caro- 
lina, we were dumped upon a barren hillside, through which ran a stream 
("branch" they call it), an area of perhaps ten acres of ground, at the corners 
of which were placed howitzers; stakes planted for a " dead-line," guards about 
ten paces from this line ; shelterless — to a great extent blanketless — the blue sky 
for a canopy, the dear mother earth for a couch, and what you might for a pillow 
— a lovely and healthful prospect surely. 

The writer came not to camp immediately, he having eluded the vigilance of 
the guard and, in the nineteenth century parlance, "skipped," with his weather- 
eye on the north star. 

But the " best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglee," says Burns, and so, 
after leaving in a negro's cabin at 5 A. M. a fair United States uniform and such a 
blanket as was left to me, I appeared in the streets of Columbia in a suit of gray, 
a homespun of the homespuns, and none the better for fit. I was to have returned 
at night to get supplies, and then steal a ride to Atlanta, whither our troops then 



— 660 — 

had come and were asking admittance. But while sleeping the sleep of the guile- 
less at the edge of a wood, a searching party found me and took me in. 

I do not wonder I became a target for those disposed to be merry, and doubt- 
less my appearance saved some lives which otherwise had gone down through 
ennui. 

I did not get another chance to go in the pursuit of freedom for some time after 
this, yet the time came and I went. 

But, when I began this sketch, I did not expect to relate personal matters, but 
offer a few incidents of a humorous turn upon the ilSth representatives immured 
at this place. 

Captain Kelly, of Company F, and myself were the victims who were to hold 
up our end of the burden and, to begin, let me say that, as in all things, the old 
regiment was generally foremost, so here; for was it not our own " mess" (we 
with two other patriots) who had the distinguished honor of conceiving a way to 
build and building a log hut, thatched with pine straw? 

Now axes cost fifty dollars in rebel scrip, and this was scarce with us; but you 
cannot suppress genius ; we borrowed, and soon a tall, lovely pine was laid low 
and being cut into fragments for the cabin . 

Shall I ever forget how the mild and patient Kelly serenely took one end of 
a log while I took the other and began the ascent of the hill leading to our " loca- 
tion ! " We had not gone far upon our way (I being in advance) when suddenly 
my end sprang into the air (Kelly's end having struck the ground) — a wound 
to my shoulder from the rebound — a howl like that emanating from a wounded 
bear coming from Kelly, as, with all his boyhood's profanity recalled, he under- 
took to coax that thorn from the sole of his unshod foot, which he had picked up 
just at that time and place. 

Pain and pity conspired to keep the risibles in check ; but Kelly was to me then, 
and still is, a picture as he sat there with the sole of his foot " right about face " 
and nervously extracted the troubler. 

Now the immaculate apostle thrived by reason of "a thorn in the flesh," but 
our friend and comrade had no pleasure in abnormal conditions. 

One little incident pertaining to the cabin after it was finished. 

Of course, while this experiment was being made, we were the observed of all 
observers and got no little assistance in the way of advice, with some little labor 
thrown in, while the edifice was being constructed. 

The day after it was finished the elements gave us an opportunity to test its 
water-proof character, for it rained profusely all day ; and, much to our delight, no 
water entered through that little thatched cottage; but if we were afforded satis- 
faction in this respect we were not to enjoy peace unalloyed, for if one be-drenched 
unfortunate came to our door upon that day, at least a thousand came — they came 
alone, in pairs, in "messes" — I was going to say in squadrons; peering in, they 
would ask the same question and get the same answer : " Does she leak ? " " No ! " 
These words thereafter became a sort of supplement to the crumbs which fell from 
the rebel table and often turned melancholy to merriment. In about six weeks 



— 66 1 — 

after this that ground was covered with buildings constructed in the same way, 
with architecture as varied as the tastes and opportunities of the individual owners. 

I have referred heretofore to our friend and brother Kelly : one other little in- 
cident with reference to him in which he got a lesson in philosophy and gave me 
a new view of life. 

I had been mauling and hauling (on my shoulder) the much needed and hard- 
to-get firewood for the night and the captain was taking his turn at the cooking 
(mush and sorghum syrup); arrived at the cabin door, I looked in and found 
the captain sitting on the floor of the same, with all his (then) earthly effects 
gathered in a heap before him ; an old and battered canteen, a pipe, sewing 
material, etc., etc. 

I asked him what he was then taking inventory for, supposing he meant to sell 
out at auction probably. His reply was : 

"I have been thinking of home; there is a room in my house occupied as a 
lumber-room, and I was thinking that should I ever reach that blessed place once 
more I would then turn out everything in that room, put up a rope from corner to 
corner and hang all these relics with my present outfit (shirt, pants, cap and 
blanket) upon it ; and thereafter whenever I am disposed to murmur at my lot in 
life I would seek that spot and gather inspiration from what I then am not in con- 
trast to what I now am." 

Soon after the captain was so fortunate as to be exchanged and this made prison 
life to me doubly unendurable. 



WM. H. HENNING'S PRISON EXPERIENCE. 

Philadelphia, September 3, 1886. 
To Mr. J. L. Smith : 

Dear Comrade: In compliance with your request, "to give you my experience 
of prison life — what I saw and heard," I discover that, in thinking back over a 
lapse of twenty-two years, my memory does not serve me as well as I would like 
it to do. I fail to recall the names of some of my comrades, names of places and 
some incidents I can recollect in part only, so that I am unable to write my ex- 
perience in as complete a form as I would like to do. However, I will do the 
best I can, hoping you will find something in my experience that will serve you 
in compiling the " History of the 118th Regiment." 

After our capture on the afternoon of June 2, 1864, at the battle of Cold Har- 
bor, we were taken to the rear of the rebel line of battle, where we remained for 
an hour or more; here our party were scrutinized very closely by the Johnnies; a 
guard approached one of our number and informed him that the general wished 
to see him ; about fifteen minutes after the prisoner and guard had gone we were 
told that they recognized in the prisoner a reb who had been in their army, and 
that he would be shot before night. We never saw him again. 

The rebs asked us to give them our rubber blankets, stating they could take 



— 662 — 

them from us if they wanted to, but preferred to have us give them voluntarily; 
they said that when the provost guard took charge of us they would take them, 
and that we might as well allow them to have the blankets. The rebs seemed to 
know that we were hungry; they said they would share what little rations they 
had in their haversacks with us; they would give us a corn-dodger for a blank: t. 
As we feared that our blankets would be taken from us by the guard, knowing 
how highly they prized them and being very hungry, we made the exchange. We 
had hardly devoured our dodgers when we were ordered to fall in, and our march 
to the rear begun. These guards were not so gentlemanly inclined toward us as 
their comrades at the front. Those of the prisoners who wore felt hats were ob- 
liged to suffer their loss ; a guard would simply walk up to a prisoner, take his 
hat from him and throw his old battered one to the prisoner. When they saw a 
pair of good boots on a prisoner they would command, pointing their guns at him : 
" Take off them boots ; " and the exchange of a good pair of boots for an old pair 
of shoes was made under protest. 

Among the prisoners was a young German by the name of Henry Blatz, who 
belonged to our company, a substitute, who feared the loss of his boots, which 
were in a very good condition ; he appealed to me, wanting to know what he 
could do to save his boots, as he would certainly lose them should any of the 
guard spy them. I told him I thought his boots would fit me and that he should 
try and pull one off unobserved by the guard, and if I could wear his boot he 
should wear my shoe and we would re-exchange when at our destination. The 
exchange was made unobserved by the guard and we then separated, each going 
about like " Billy Barlow" until we arrived at Andersonville, where we re-ex- 
changed our foot wear. 

I do not know the name of the place where we camped for the night. The 
guards on post wanted to know whether we had any good Yankee smoke-pipes ; 
they said they would give us a corn-dodger for a smoke-pipe. (I should perhaps 
have stated before that we had eaten the last of our rations the day before our 
capture ; our commissary wagons had not come up ; in fact, we were told when we 
had the last three days' rations issued to us that we must try and make them do 
us five days, as the wagons would probably not be up again until that time; a ra- 
tion of raw beef, however, had been issued just before the detail for the skirmish 
line on which we were captured was made ; but many of those on the detail hav- 
ing had no opportunity to cook or broil it lost the ration, so that, with the excep- 
tion of the corn-dodger which we got from the Johnnies, we had had nothing to 
eat for two days.) We had hoped that when we went into camp for the night 
that we would receive something from the Confederate government in the way of 
rations, but we were doomed to disappointment, and when the guards bid for our 
smoke-pipes there was an active rise in the corn-dodger market, for the bids were 
taken promptly and a prisoner had to show a good article in the smoke-pipe line 
in order to obtain a dodger. 

On the following morning we were taken through Richmond to what they called 
Libby Second, or the Pemberton Prison. Here we received our first ration from 
the commissary-general., which consisted of a quarter loaf of corn bread, a small 



- 663 - 

piece of bacon and a small cup (officer's cup) of beans for a day's ration. On the 
second or third day of our confinement we were visited by an official who stated 
that we were to be taken down to Georgia and put in camp, and all Yanks that 
had greenbacks about them should come down-stairs and deliver them up. The 
amount in greenbacks so delivered would be placed to the credit of the prisoners 
delivering them and would be returned at their parole. We would be given one 
hour to hand over our greenbacks, and at the end of that time there would be a 
search made and all greenbacks found on prisoners at the search would be con- 
fiscated. As the delivery took place on the floor below, I cannot state how many 
took stock in the delivery business, but I do know that if ever there was a time 
when mortals racked their brains to devise plans to conceal their money it was 
done there and then. I cannot give all the devices resorted to by the prisoners to 
conceal their money, as I employed the greater part of my time in thinking up 
a plan to conceal my fortune, which consisted of $7, which was not enough to 
retire on, to be sure. Nevertheless I believe I would have been retired to the 
silent majority at Andersonville had it not been for my little all of $7. I spent a 
small portion of my time in watching my comrades conceal their money. I no- 
ticed that the favorite places of concealment was in the flies of the pants between 
the cloth and the lining, at the bottom of the pants where they are turned in, in 
their stockings, etc. There was one comrade who hail a rather novel way of sav- 
ing his money. He had but one greenback. I could not see its denomination, 
but it seemed to me, from his appearance, that he was subjecting himself to a very 
heavy pressure of his mental faculties in order to determine where to put it, when, 
finally, he pulled from his pocket a plug of tobacco, which he was fortunate 
enough to possess, and, after taking off a leaf, he folded up the greenback tightly, 
wrapped the note in the tobacco-leaf and put it in his mouth. I was told that 
one prisoner (I think of the 90th Regiment P. V.) who wore State buttons on 
their uniforms, which were a little larger than the regular button, undone the 
lapping of the button and put a greenback in the button and then relapped it with 
his penknife. After considerable cogitation on my part I ripped the corps mark, 
which I wore on the side of my cap, half off, then cut the cloth and put the notes 
between the cloth and lining. Both being old notes, they could not be detected in 
the cap by feeling. I then sewed the corps mark on again over the cut in the cloth. 
Wlven the time for search arrived we were taken single-file down-stairs to a room 
in which were a number of officers. On a table in front of them I noticed a pile 
of greenbacks. While the search was going on I noticed that secreting notes in 
the flies and bottom of pants and in the stockings was a failure. When my turn 
arrived I was told to turn my pockets inside out, my cap was lifted from my head 
and turned inside out, my clothing was manipulated, but they f iled to find my 
money. I was obliged to leave behind thread, needles, burning glass, etc. After 
the search we were taken out of Libby Second and packed in freight cars. There 
were no seats in the cars of any kind. I was told there were ninety in a car, but 
did not count them. I am inclined to believe, though, that there were that many 
in a car. 

There was nothing of importance that transpired on our way to Andersonville. 



— 664 — 

If my memory serves me right, I think we were about three days on our journey. 
At night we would be taken from the cars and camped in a field, which was a big 
relief to us. Our rations were very scant, but I think the officers in charge of us 
did the best they could under the circumstances. It was at one of these night 
encampments that our rations were not forthcoming — until very late in the night — 
that I noticed an individual crawling on the ground, outside the guards on post, 
and making his way slowly toward us, and got in between the posts, where he 
remained, lying full length on the ground. I do not know whether the guards 
noticed him or not, but I am inclined to believe they knew all about it, for the 
fellow appealed perfectly easy, and, after a low "hist! " to attract our attention, 
he produced from a bag a round loaf of corn bread, its dimensions being about 
ten inches in diameter and about three anil one-half inches thick. "Don't 
you want to buy a loaf of bread?" he inquired. " How much?" we replied. 
" Six dollars," said he. " Good God ! " ejaculated a prisoner, " that is a terrible 
price for a loaf of bread. Can't you come down several dollars?" "No," he 
replied. " I risked a good bit to get here and think the loaf is cheap at that 
price." Not being able to make a sale, he crawled away, and I think, from his 
actions, he intended to try us again later in the night. I think the reason he did 
not come down in his price was that he surmised we had not given up all hopes 
of getting rations and a second effort on his part later on might be more success- 
ful. In this, however, he was mistaken. Rations were issued to us, which put 
an end to his speculations in the bread business. 

In the afternoon of the following day we arrived at the Andersonville Stockade. 
Here we were drawn up in line and counted off into detachments. A detachment 
consisted of 270 men, which was divided into three divisions of ninety men, 
which were subdivided into six squads of fifteen men each. Then we were 
marched into the prison pen. The wretched spectacle that presented itself to our 
view was sickening. Some of our regimental comrades who had preceded us in 
this dismal abode of squalor, starvation and exposure came to greet us, not with 
smiles ; but with lamentations and sympathy at the gloomy prospects before us. It 
was impossible for our detachment to keep together, for the prison pen was getting 
crowded, and we had to separate and pick out places here and there, in twos, 
threes and sometimes fours. What shelter there was in the pen was made in 
various ways. Some few had tents. How they came in possession of them was 
always a mystery to us. Some who were fortunate enough to have woollen 
blankets made tents of them, that is, when they got the poles, which was no easy 
matter to get. Some made a kind of shelter by having two uprights, a ridge pole 
and branches of trees resting on the pole and slanting down to the ground, form- 
ing a roof and wall, but was not really one thing or the other. The only ones 
who had shelter of this kind (I think) were those who entered the prison pen 
first, as there was no wood, at the time I write of, to pick up. The only things a 
prisoner could get without trying were filth and vermin, of which there were an 
abundance, and each new-comer soon got his share. 

Three weeks after we entered the pen the stockade was enlarged. This gave 
us an opportunity to get on new ground, also to pick up enough wood for poles 



— 665 — 

with which to construct a little shelter made from a half blanket which one of our 
party of four had in his possession. Your experience in the construction of tents 
will enable you to give a good guess about what kind of a tent we had horn a 
half blanket. Nevertheless, we felt more comfortable under it, as it was some 
protection from the sun's burning rays, to which we had been exposed for three 
weeks. Of course, when we would lie down at night, our legs would be outside 
our tent, but we felt grateful to know that a portion of our bodies was sheltered 
somewhat from the rain or heavy dews at night. 

As insignificant as this shelter was, we were much better off than were hundreds 
of comrades who had no shelter whatever. They would wander aimlessly around 
the pen until the sun got too hot for them, and then they would creep around in 
the shadow of the tents of their more fortunate comrades, until the time arrived 
for drawing rations. There was great activity in the pen at this time. The pangs 
of hunger were great and became intensified at the sight of the rations, poor as 
they were. We could hardly wait until the divisions, from detachment to division 
and from division to squad, were made, and then again until the chief of squad 
would divide it up into individual rations, which would be made as equally as 
possible ; yet one of our squad would turn his back and name the comrade to 
whom each piece pointed at should be given. 

Our bill of fare was something like this. First two weeks — cooked rations. 
On alternate clays we received a piece of corn-bread and a very small piece of 
bacon, then again corn-mush. Balance of month — raw rations. A pint of corn- 
meal which, I think, was made from corncob as well as corn. Sometimes a little 
rice, and occasionally some stock beans or peas, full of bugs. Ground corn cob, 
peas, bugs, all went down. We could not spare anything. Very often it would 
happen that on mush day it would rain and by the time it would be divided and 
subdivided it would be saturated with rain and would have a very sour taste. A 
member of our regiment was in the habit of speaking about buckwheat cakes and 
Jersey sausages on these occasions, which we bore with good grace for a while, 
but finally threatened to annihilate him if he did not stop it while we were eating 
our sour mush. 

There were a few in the pen who fared better than the general run of prisoners. 
These enterprising comrades had a small stand outside their tents on which they 
kept for sale in very small quantities potatoes, wheat flour, soap, and on one occa- 
sion I noticed a chicken, corn-meal and buggy peas. I believe they got their 
stock from the guards who smuggled them in the pen, the incentive being Yankee 
greenbacks. 

These articles sold for the following prices : A piece of soap, cut across the bar 
and three-quarters of an inch wide and thick, io cents; a lablespoonful of wheat 
flour, IO cents ; a very ordinary sized potato, 25 cents. I had not the heart to 
price the chicken, but, as I did not see it the next day on sale, very likely a syndicate 
of the wealthier comrades was formed and bought it in. The wheat flour was bought 
by the prisoners and scorched before eating for diarrhoea. The potatoes were eaten 
raw for scurvy. It was in potatoes that I invested my 57- There was also another 
article sold in the pen, called sour beer, made by pouring water on corn-meal and 



— 666 — 

allowing it to ferment in the sun. Many prisoners bought this sour beer, thinking 
it good for the scurvy, and the cry of the hawkers could be heard in the different 
parts of the pen : " Here's your good sour beer, now ; only five cents a cup." 
This sour beer was not intoxicating, and to a hungry man went down rather thin, 
Consequently its price was the lowest of any article sold in the pen, it being drank 
principally for what was considered its medicinal virtues. 

The mortality of the pen, particularly in the month of August, was heavy. It 
was an every-day occurrence to see a long row of dead lying side by side in the 
street leading to the gate of the stockade and those having charge of them wait- 
ing for the gates to be opened to carry them out to the dead-house. The dead- 
house, as it appeared to us in the pen, was nothing more than four uprights with 
ridge poles, across which were thrown limbs of trees to make a shady place for 
the dead until their names and regiments could be taken previous to burial. 

As month succeeded month matters grew worse with us ; many of the prisoners 
had but little, if any, hope of an exchange, believing that we would have to remain 
in the pen during the war, unless sooner released by death, which, indeed, seemed 
the most probable. As this idea took a deeper root in their minds they would lose 
all ambition, they would not walk around for exercise, but remain seated on the 
ground and become indifferent to their surroundings, refuse food, their minds 
would wander, their eyes become vacant and staring, and finally death would 
come to their relief. There were others, fortunately few in number comparatively, 
who became desperate, having no regard whatever for their comrades; it was 
every one for himself, and the devil take the hindmost with them ; they would 
raid and rob their comrades of rations, money, watches or whatever valuables 
they possessed ; their victims being mostly western men from Sherman's army, 
who were more fortunate in reaching the stockade with their valuables than were 
the men from the Army of the Potomac. These raiders became the terror of the 
pen ; they were prepared and ready at any moment to assault and rob ; they han- 
dled some of the prisoners so roughly, that death resulted in consequence. The 
prisoners made application to General Winder, commanding the post, for authority 
to organize a court, which was granted; the raiders were arrested, tried, and six 
of them sentenced to be hung, which sentence was duly executed in the prison pen. 
This action on the part of the prisoners had a very salutary effect, and nothing 
more was heard of raiding after the execution. There were others who tried to 
effect their escape by tunnelling. A tunnel would be started in a tent near the 
" dead line." (The dead line was a light fence, about twenty feet from the 
stockade ; this line ran completely around, and parallel with, the sides of the 
stockade.) Those engaged in the digging worked on dark nights only ; they 
would dig with sticks and half canteens, and scatter the dirt along a swamp or 
morass that run through the pen ; when the tunnel was thought ready for tapping, 
those interested would creep in, a dark, rainy night always being selected for the 
tapping, but their brave efforts were seldom crowned with success, for while some 
did escape in this manner, by far the greater number were doomed to disappoint- 
ment. An alarm would be sounded and a hasty retreat made out of the tunnel. 
All prisoners who managed to escape through tunnelling or otherwise, and who 



— 667 — 

were unfortunate enough to be recaptured, suffered cruel punishment by being put 
in chain-gangs and in stocks, hung up by the thumbs and whipped at a whipping- 
post. Nevertheless the tunnelling continued. The knowledge that our imprison- 
ment might be a long one, that we were within the yellow-fever district of the 
South, that the air we breathed was impregnated with foul, repulsive vapors, and 
should that fatal scourge once enter, a " clean sweep " would be made — these 
horrible thoughts incited the prisoners on to repeated and desperate efforts to 
escape, but with few exceptions only to meet with disappointment, and many with 
cruel punishment. Much could have been done to alleviate our sufferings, with 
no further trouble on the part of our keeper than to allow a guard to accompany 
a detail of prisoners, day by day, to get and bring in wood, of which there was 
an abundance, for the purpose of making better shelter. Captain Wirz was a 
cruel keeper; he was a man short in stature, stooping figure, a deep-set, ugly eye; 
he was a mean combination, a potent concentration, a hellish conglomeration of 
nastiness, profanity and barbarity ; he not only cruelly punished prisoners for at- 
tempting to escape, but kicked and otherwise abused sick prisoners who happened 
to be in his way. I saw him one day, in company with another rebel, both 
mounted on heavy horses and riding slowly between the "stockade' and "dead 
line," the object being to break through into any tunnel that might be in operation, 
and I thought, Oh ! that he might break through into some unknown cavity, and 
go down, way down through the different stratas and settle somewhere about the 
Silurian and Cambrian systems of deposits, and that we might be enabled to dump 
down some eighteen or twenty barrels of sour mush before the ground closed in 
on him. 

There were many touching incidents transpiring in the pen. I will mention but 
one. There were two prisoners who chose a spot in front of our tent for then- 
sleeping quarters. They had no shelter of any kind. One was quite young — a 
mere boy ; the other appeared well advanced in years to be a soldier. In a short 
time the boy took sick; his companion did all that lay in his power to help, cheer 
and comfort him. One day, as he lay upon the ground with his head in the lap 
of the old prisoner, who was passing his hand through the boy's hair, caressingly, 
the boy exclaimed, Oh ! I am going; I am going; please write and tell my mother 
and sister that I tried so hard to live, in this awful, awful place ; tell them that I 
hope to meet them in Heaven, and that I did my duty, and died like a man. The 
old prisoner made no reply other than nodding assent, but the tears were trickling 
down his cheeks as he continued to caress the dying boy, until his spirit passed 
away ; after that, the old man grew silent ; he would not converse with us any 
more ; by and by his mind began to wander, and we knew by the vacant stare in 
his eye that he, too, was " going," and that there would be no one to write to 
mother now, and tell her how and where her boy died. Some of the prisoners 
held prayer-meetings, and endeavored by exhortation and prayer to inspire hope 
in the hearts of their depressed comrades. A singing quartette was organized, 
composed of Tom Martin, of " K," and Sergeant Charles Baker, John Hutton and 
W. H. Henning, of " I," hoping that the little service they could render in this 
manner might help to cheer their comrades to some degree. One day in September 



— 668 — 

(I think) there was considerable excitement in the pen by the announcement that 
a certain number of prisoners would be exchanged, and we were to fall in line 
by detachments for the doctors to make the selection. Those of the sick and the 
worst skeletons whose time of service would soon expire were selected. A short 
time after, the prisoners were taken out by detachments, as they thought, for ex- 
change; we were taken to Savannah, where we remained about two weeks, and 
then a portion were sent to Millen, Ga., and the balance to Andersonville again, 
I, with some more of our regiment, going to Millen, Ga. ; here we remained until 
some time in November, when we were again sent to Savannah, and finally pa- 
roled on the 15th day of November, 1864. 

I am sorry I cannot give you a more complete list of names of those of our 
regiment who died in the rebel prison pens. I have lost my memoranda, and can 
only give such names as I can recall from memory. 

Private Charles Hubbs, Co. C, died in Andersonville, of chronic diarrhoea. 
Sergeant Samuel D. Boyer, " D, " " " " " " 

Private Augustus Specht, " A, " " " " " " 

Joseph Smith, " F, " " " " 

" John Ginaman, " F, returned. 

" Fred Bubeck, " " " Paroled in Jackson, Fla., May, 1865. 

Sergeant Ed. Wilkinson, " I, died in Andersonville, of scorbutis. 
Private Geo. F. Morton, " " " " 

" Garret Houseman, " " " " " chronic diarrhoea. 

" John Hutton, Co. " " " " 

" Andrew Myers, " " " " " 

" Henry Blatz, " " " " Milien, 

«• John Fullerton, " " " " Andersonville, " dropsy. 

" Jas. S. McGettigan, Co. I, " returned. 

" Patrick O'Brien, " " 

" Robert K. Enbody, " " 

" Wm. Crealman, " " 

" Fred. Link, " " 

" Wm. H. Ilenning, " " 

Those of our company whom we met in the Andersonville pen were : 
Sergeant Chas. Baker, returned. 

Private And'w Browning, " , 

" John Parker " 

" Thomas Martin, Co. K, returned. 

Respectfully yours, etc., 

W. H. Henning. 



RELIGIOUS ASPECT OF THE "118TH." 

By Lieutenant Sylvester Crossley 

That the " 118th " was composed, to any great extent, of saints it would, per- 
haps, be idle to attempt to demonstrate. 



— 669 — ■ 

Nor, indeed, would it be expected of any body of men unselected, homogeneous 
and banded with a purpose wholly foreign to the genius and spirit of Christianity 
such as is a regiment of soldiers. 

Hut from the fact that our regiment was made up mainly of self-respecting, 
gentle-bred, fairly educated and generally youthful material, it would naturally 
argue the conclusion that it should give religion a respectful hearing, if nothing 
more. And so, indeed, it was with us. 

Starting at " Camp Union," a few miles out from the city proper, the command 
began its career by opening its first Sunday of camp life with religious services, 
having upon this occasion secured the services of the popular and patriotic Rev. 
J. Walker Jackson, who delivered us a discourse in his own intense and fascinat- 
ing manner, full of patriotic sentiment as well as religious instruction; and up to 
the time of leaving for the seat of war many devotional meetings were held. 

After the regiment's first (calamitous) baptism of fire, for a brief space of time, 
when in camp at Sharpsburg, Md., there were held some very impressive meet- 
ings, at the close of one of which, it will be remembered, our commanding offi- 
cer, Lieutenant-Colonel Gwyn, addressed us, commending this feature of our 
camp life. 

Our first chaplain, Charles E. Hill, about this time joined us, and, wherever 
convenient, would preach, but he soon after left us, resigning December 24, 1863. 

He was followed by Chaplain William O'Neill, whose commission dated Jan- 
uary 29, 1863. The chaplain was a brother of our brave, witty, large-hearted 
captain, afterward major, of that name. 

In him we found a man worthy of his vocation and of being the possessor of a 
commission in a regiment of such worth as was ours. Thoroughly religious him- 
self, he helped to imbue others with the same feelings. Energetic, intelligent, 
benevolent, his position among us was not that of a sinecure, but of active, cour- 
ageous, persistent service. 

For him was erected at Camp " Beverly Ford," Va., a spacious log-chapel with 
hewn wood floor and pews, a pulpit and many other things churchly that were 
faint, but significant, reminders of better days. 

Through his efforts, and without cost to the men, was secured an ample and 
admirable library. 

His preaching was, wherever practicable, stated, and was always replete with 
Gospel spirit and unction. We retained his services until the muster-out of the 
regiment. 

There was in all these endeavors, to our apprehension at this time, little to im- 
press us with the belief that religion was a power in our midst. And, yet, who 
can tell what were the results of these religious activities, what their influence for 
good may be up to this day among our surviving membership ? We may not 
know in this world. 



— 6/0 — 

BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ARMY HOSPITAL AND 

ITS WORK. 

By Surgeon Joseph Thomas. 

Prior to the battle of Chancellorsville, and nearly a year subsequent to it, the medi- 
cal and surgical treatment of the sick and wounded was performed by the medical 
regimental officers. Seldom was there any concert of action with medical officers 
of a brigade. A hospital tent and a limited supply of food, medicines and sur- 
gical appliances and dressings constituted the equipment and dependence for treat- 
ing the sick while on the march, and the wounded during and after a battle. 
While resting in camp, also, the sick were housed and treated in the regimental 
hospital tent. On a march these supplies and appliances were usually conveyed 
on a one-horse, two-wheeled cart, designated " medical transport cart," one of 
them being assigned to each regiment. This, in charge of the regimental surgeon 
and his two assistants, with a hospital steward, a soldier carrying the medical 
knapsack and a few invalid soldiers to act as nurses and stretcher-bearers, followed 
on the march immediately in rear of the regiment. A two-horse army ambulance 
generally accompanied the same. A short time before General Grant commenced 
operations with the Army of the Fotomac this system was changed and the medi- 
cal work was reorganized. Division field hospitals were then erected, with a sur- 
geon selected from one of the regiments for each hospital to superintend and con- 
trol its care and management. A corps of skilled and experienced operators, 
variously chosen from the different regiments of the division, was uniformly 
present with the field hospital. Several army wagons were employed to convey 
the tents and ample supplies. A number of men to act as nurses and pioneers, to 
put up and take down tents, etc., as well as to receive the wounded from the am- 
bulances as they were brought from the battle field, accompanied the medical 
train. The surgeon-in-chief of division, a staff officer of the general command- 
ing, usually designated the location for the field hospital pending a fight and 
directed its removal as circumstances required. Thus the efficiency of medical 
work was greatly improved, and the sick and wounded were much better cared 
for in consequence. 

Dr. Joseph Thomas, surgeon of the nSth Regiment, was assigned to the 
charge of the field hospital of the 1st Division, 5th Army Corps, at its reorgani- 
zation, and he continued with it until the return of the army from Appomattox to 
Washington, in May, 1865, when the troops were disbanded. 

Dr. John M. Kollock, first assistant surgeon of the 1 18th, was detached for duty 
at general hospital, at City Point, when the army crossed the James River and 
operated against the enemy at Petersburg, Va., and he remained there until the 
removal of the hospital at the close of the war, although he had been promoted 
surgeon of the 50th Regiment P. V., September 3, 1864. 

Dr. Melson L. Rowland, the second assistant surgeon of the regiment, was dis- 
charged by reason of ill-health, December 23, 1863. Dr. John L. Crouse was 



— 671 — 

appointed an assistant surgeon and assigned to the 118th Regiment, September 30, 
1864, and was mustered out with the command, June 1, 1P65. 

Charles F. Dare was promoted from private, Company H, to hospital steward, 
September 8, 1862, rendered valuable service with the regiment and division field 
hospital during its existence and was mustered out with regiment, June 1, 1865. 

Private William Flemming, Company B, was assigned to the regimental hos- 
pital, carried the medical knapsack on the march and acted in this capacity until 
the time of muster-out, June 1, 1865. 

Private Henry H. Hodges, Company D, was assigned on detached duty in 
charge of the medical stores of the 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 5th Army Corps, 
and later on was connected with the division field hospital, performing efficient 
services in the medical department. 

Corporal Joseph B. Reppert, Company F, after his return to the regiment (hav- 
ing been captured at Shepherdstown, Va.), in feeble health, was assigned as a 
special hospital cook. 

Captain John R. White, Company G, was assigned to the division field hospital, 
and had command of the various men on detached duty connected with it. 



GETTYSBURG versus WATERLOO. 

By J. L. Smith. 

The battle of Gettysburg was the greatest conflict of modern times. In the 
number of men engaged, in its duration, it exceeded Waterloo, and the loss of 
life was heavier. Over one-third of the Union army and- nearly one-half of the 
Confederate army were killed, wounded or missing. 

General Pickett's charge, on the third day, and its repulse, have not been 
equalled in valor since the day of Thermopylae. Napoleon's Old Guard, historic 
for their victorious career, wavered before the first volley of the English batteries 
at Waterloo, and at the second fell back in confusion and disorder. Pickett's men 
at Gettysburg advanced a mile under a fire of musketry and artillery that tore 
great gaps in the line, which were filled by the living, and firmly, steadily, the 
line advanced, as through the very gates of hell, until they engaged in a hand-to- 
hand fight with the Union men, but were finally repulsed. 

Waterloo has stood for half a century without a parallel. It is not to be won- 
dered at that when the descendants of the men who conquered there met each 
other the fight should be fiercer and longer than on that famous field. 

The critical fighting and severest losses took place on the second day, when 
Longstreet made his desperate charge and was driven back defeated. This was 
the turning-point of the Rebellion. From that time its fortunes waned. 



— 672 — 
APPETITE OF AN ARMY MULE. 

After Gettysburg right, working our way back to Virginia, the supply wagons 
passed near Frederick, Md. The rainy weather had prevented supplies from com- 
ing up, the mules had no hay for some time; after going into corral for the night, 
one teamster, who wanted his team to hold out, went foraging for hay ; was success- 
ful and returned with an armful. That was enough ; every mule that got a sight or 
smell of it commenced braying, bawling and pulling the tongues of wagons around, 
regardless of teamsters making their coffee; the noise was provoking; prospect of 
sleep vanished, the Whoa, Whoa! what I give you corn for? Don't I feed 
you ? Don't you get enough to eat ? had no effect, when one teamster said Let's 
get hay and quiet them. As quite a number had returned unsuccessful, all eyes 
were turned on the speaker; the determined manner in which he spoke led a few 
to venture with him. What was their surprise to see him charge a rail fence, tell- 
ing each one to carry all rails he could back to the wagons, and throw them under 
wagon tongues. The mules commenced to smell, then lick, and finally opened on 
rails: such a cracking, gnawing, tearing and splinter time had never been heard 
before, and at daylight not a piece as big as your hand remained. They had 
chawed all night, and the big pole mule for a change had the teamster's boot, in- 
nocently trying to chaw the top of leg off. Hodges. 



A STRANGE PREMONITION. 

There came to the regiment while it lay encamped near Beverly Ford, Va., as 
a substitute, a man of fine physique. He was assigned to Co. I asW. Shuler. It 
was seen that he possessed more than ordinary intelligence. He was a fluent 
talker, and affable in his manner, so that he soon won the good-will of most of 
his company. He was by profession a lawyer, and entered the service in the 
South-west as a captain. 

After the battle of Shiloh he resigned his commission and went to Philadelphia, 
and while there he re-entered the service. He told some of his comrades that he 
had been in many hard-fought battles in the South-west, but that the very next 
battle that he should go into he would be killed, and that early in the fight. He 
was often laughed at for his forebodings, but he only answered, " Yes, you may 
laugh, but nevertheless it is true ; for I see it just as plainly as if pictured on 
paper. But I do not care, for I shall go to my death just as I would go to a ball." 
When the Wilderness campaign opened, under Genera Grant, and orders were 
given to move forward, he repeated his story, adding that he had but five days more 
to live, and that he would face the music. On the morning of May 6th, when our 
division was drawn up in line of battle to make the first assault on the enemies' 
position, plainly in sight across the clearing, he said to Sergeant Layman, of his 
company: "You see those works; well, just the other side of them I will fall; 



— 673 — 

that is the spot. I know it! I know it!" The sergeant said, "Captain," for 
that was the title he was known by, " do you honestly feel that such is your fate ? 
If so, fall out, and do not go into the fight ; I shall never mention it." The look 
that he gave the sergeant was one not to be forgotten, as he said: " Sergeant, I 
thank you; don't tempt me : I have always done my duty, and shall do it now." 
Just at this moment the command was given, " Forward ! " and forward the lines 
moved — moved into the very jaws of death. The sergeant, now fully realizing 
the situation and the earnest manner of his friend's reprimand, concluded to stand 
by him The lines rushed upon the enemy's works. They were carried about 
fifty yards inside these works. The fatal missile came ; the ball entered the cap- 
tain's left breast with a thud. Reeling he fell into the arms of the sergeant, who 
now laid him down. Loosening the knapsack from his back and laying his head 
upon it, he asked, " Cap't, is there anything else that I can do for you ? " " Yes, 
give me a drink of water." But before the water reached his mouth the blood 
came gushing forth. The sergeant called to his comrades for help to carry him 
from the field ; but the captain in a dying whisper said, " No, Sergeant, leave me 
where I am ; it is no use ; it is all up with me. Go on and take care of your- 
self." Bidding him good-bye the sergeant left him, never to see him again, as 
his remains fell into the hands of the enemy. 



"OLD BIG FEET." 

James Wilson, of Company D, who afterwards died at Andersonville, Georgia. 

On our way to Warrenton, in fall of 1862, we bivouacked in old corn-field. The 
fence rails were laid on stones to cause draft for fire to burn quickly. It is won- 
derful how quick those old bummers, who never carry a rail or take a canteen to 
get filled, smouch in for best place. The rails were quickly filled with pots; the 
smell of coffee cheering; eagerly each one watched his pot; the simmer and boil 
was fast approaching, when in the darkness a big-footer, too lazy to lift feet, 
undertook to step over; the result was feet wouldn't lift — they were too big ; but 
rails did! Away went pots, helter-skelter. Such a grabbing for pots, trying to save 
a portion of contents, accompanied with a volley of oaths, that was followed with, 
Kill him ! Extra duty for life ! Give him the bayonet, etc., saluted the ears of 
the unfortunate culprit, who was caught, loaded with canteens, and sent for water. 
It was useless; none could be found, and a no-coffee crowd turned in that night. 
Ever afterwards old big feet was kept from coming near a fire until after coffee 
was made. Hodges. 



APRIL THIRTEENTH, 1865. 

The day after the surrender General Henry A. Wise sent his aide, Lieutenant 
Charles J. Faulkner, to General Chamberlain, commanding our brigade, informing 
43 



— 674 — 

him that he was anxious to leave for his home. Lieutenant George W. Williams, 
of our regiment, aide on General Chamberlain's staff, was sent to examine his 
baggage, consisting of two trunks, at the hotel ; some pistol cartridges were found, 
which he was told to keep as he might want to forage on the way home. At the 
bottom of trunk was found a handsome silk flag. General Wise remarked it had 
been presented to his regiment by the ladies of Richmond, in the early part of 
the war, and he was exceedingly anxious to return the same. After examining the 
flag Lieutenant Williams turned and said, " General, no doubt you have made 
the usual promise to shed the last drop of blood in your regiment to preserve this 
flag ; as it is without spot or blemish, it would be out of place with those scarred 
and stained battle-flags surrendered yesterday, and I doubt whether any other 
Yank has ever had the opportunity of seeing it; you had better return it." Wise 
was amazed as Williams rode from the scene. 



The following are answers to letters of inquiry sent out by the publisher. 

WHO WAS THE COLOR-BEARER? 

Savannah, Georgia, September i, 1886. 
J. L. Smith, Esq., 118th Corn Exchange Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, 

Dear Sir : Your kind letter received, and I am much gratified at your geniality 
and frankness. Please accept my thanks for it. The Mississippi regiment you 
refer to, which came through Trostle's farmyard, was the 21st Mississippi, one of 
those composing Barksdale's Mississippi brigade. It was commanded by Col- 
onel B. G. Humphreys, of Mississippi, who succeeded Barksdale (killed), and 
who after the war was made governor of Mississippi. The name of the color- 
bearer I do not know, but will try and find out for you. 

I thank you for the tribute you give to the valor of this regiment and brigade, 
whose devotion to their cause was unsurpassed by any other in our army. I was 
told once by General Humphreys that in one of the regiments— the 13th, I think 
— there were two companies in which were privates, volunteers for the war, who 
were worth property valued in the aggregate at four millions of dollars, and that 
those gentlemen made it a point of honor to serve as privates in the ranks and re- 
fuse office. This was mentioned as an illustration to show the pride and spirit 
of the whole brigade, and I can bear testimony, and it is due to them that I should, 
that I never saw any faltering from that high plane of devotion to principle among 
the officers and their commands in the companies mentioned, nor among the offi- 
cers and soldiers in any other companies in any other regiments of the brigade. I 
tell you this that you may say that if your regiment had to go, you did so before 
the charge of the very flower of Southern chivalry. 

Very respectfully, 

L. McLaws, late Major- General C. S. A. 
Note. — See map of Gettysburg. 



— 675 — 

Philadelphia, August 31, 1886. 
To the Adjutant- General of Mississippi : 

Dear Sir : At the battle of Gettysburg, July 2d, 5.30 p. m., Barksdale's brigade 

charged through the Trostle House yard, on the right of the 1st Brigade, 1st 

Division, 5th Corps. The flag of the leading regiment was borne so bravely by 

the color-bearer through the gate of the yard, and I saw him so plainly in advance 

of his regiment, that I am anxious to get the name of his regiment for insertion in 

the " History of the 118th Corn Exchange Regiment, Pennsylvania Volunteers," 

now being written. If you can aid me in this you will greatly oblige yours, 

J. L. Smith, late \\%th P. V. Regiment. 

Mississippi papers will please notice or copy the foregoing. 

If the " Trostle House " was the dwelling of the " Peach Orchard," by which 
name it is commonly known, the position assaulted and carried by Barksdale's 
brigade, the regiment in question was the 2ist Mississippi, Colonel B. G. Hum- 
phreys, which held the right of the brigade. The next regiment, the right centre, 
was the 17th, Lieutenant-Colonel Fizer. The Federal troops occupying this posi- 
tion were a Pennsylvania brigade, their commander, General Graham, and a num- 
ber of his men with artillery being overrun and captured by the 21st. If we re- 
member correctly, the color-bearer and guard of said regiment were all killed or 
wounded in the charge. 

If the Trostle House was farther to the Federal right, held by troops among 
whom were some in Zouave costume, it was charged by the 13th, Colonel Carter, 
and 1 8th, Lieutenant-Colonel W. H. Luse, Mississippi regiments. 

Than the charge of Barksdale's brigade at Gettysburg, directed by Longstreet 
and led by Barksdale, no action of the war was more glorious. Piercing and 
rending the Federal line, it was one of those battle episodes which, followed, made 
great victories. But this brilliant success achieved by the loss of half the brigade 
was not supported and its legitimate fruits were lost ; and the next day witnessed 
the slaughter of Pickett's division in endeavoring to carry Cemetery Ridge, which 
a support to Barksdale the day before could have bloodlessly occupied. But such 
was not to be our Kismet. — Greenville Times. 

THE SURRENDER OF GENERAL LEE. 

(From Philadelphia Ledger, October 29, 1884.) 

Mr. J. L. Smith having noticed denials of the story that the surrender of Gen- 
eral Lee took place under an apple tree, wrote to General Grant on the subject. 
The subjoined correspondence explains itself : 

October 3, 1884. 
General U. S. Grant, Long Branch : 

Dear Sir : I have read several articles in the papers of late alleging that the 
surrender of General Lee at Appomattox was not under an apple tree. I was in 
the 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers, Corn Exchange Regiment, and on the morn- 
ing of April 9, 1865, our regiment was lying near the hill. I was early at the 



— 6-6 — 

spot and secured a piece of the tree. A numbei of officers were there also, offer- 
ing five and ten dollars to the men for chips, and one of your orderlies was there 
and got a branch for you at the time. From this latter a set of jewelry was made 
by the Messrs. Browne, Spaulding & Co., of New York, for your wife, according 
to a paper I saw several years ago. 

I enclose clipping from the Evening Telegraph (Philadelphia) of October 2, 
which quotes Captain Nathan Appleton as having secured a piece of the tree. 
I have my piece still in my possession, and as these denials are having a run through 
the papers tending to bring my relic into disrepute, and my friends tell me that the 
occurrence did not take place under the tree, I ask you, general, to set the matter 
right. 

Awaiting your answer, I am yours truly, 

J. L. Smith. 

General Grant's response was as follows : 

General Lee was seated on the ground, with his back resting against an apple 
tree, when General Babcock delivered to him my answer to his letter requesting 
an interview for the purpose of arranging terms of surrender. Lee was conducted 
to McLean's house, within our lines, before I got up [to the front]. 

U. S. Grant. 

October 16, 1884. 

(See Facsimile of General Grant's letter on opposite page.) 



(From Harper's Weekly, 1865, p. 565.) 

We give on page 565 an illus- 
tration of a set of magnificent jew- 
elry which Messrs. Browne & 
Spaulding, of New York city, 
have prepared for a present to 
Mrs. General Grant. The frame- 
work of the comb is of fine gold, 
beautifully chased and wrought 
in imitation of two oaken 
branches intertwined and exhib- 
iting distinctly the knots and 
roughness of the bark. Acorns, 
fourteen in number, and set in 
cups of gold exquisitely enam- 
eled, are depending from the two 
main stems, one of them attached 
by twigs and others suspended 
by chains. The leaf work, set- 
ting, etc., are inimitable. The 
ear-rings have each a large 
acorn as a pendant, with two leaves and miniature acorns above. The brooch 




677 — 




FAC-SIMILE OF LETTER FROM GENERAL GRANT. 



— 678 — 

is after same general style, containing four acorns upon a leafy twig wrought like 
the ear-rings and comb. On the back are the words inscribed : " Mrs. General 
Grant, from Browne & Spaulding." The jewels are enclosed in a fine purple 
velvet case lined with white velvet satin ; this bears the inscription in gold : " Pre- 
sented to Mrs. General U. S. Grant, by Browne & Spaulding, 570 Broadway, 
N. Y." The wood used in this set was cut from the apple tree under which 
General Grant's officers met General Lee on the morning of the surrender, 
April 9, 1865, at Appomattox Court-House, Virginia. 

FLAG OF TRUCE AT APPOMATTOX. 

Gainsville, Georgia, March 12, 1886. 
J. L. Smith, Esq. : 

Dear Sir : Your favor 8th inst. received and noted. Captain Sims, of Colum- 
bia, South Carolina, was the bearer of the flag of truce on the day of capitulation 
at Appomattox. He had been assigned to me at Petersburg on the death of his 
chief proper, General A. P. Hill. I regret that I cannot give you his initials. 
Very respectfully and truly yours, 

James Longstreet, late Lieutenant- General C. S. A. 

New York, May 25, 1887. 
Mr. Smith : 

Dear Sir : I have the flag of truce (a towel) that came from the Confederate 
lines at Appomattox, which you describe as coming through the 118th Pennsyl- 
vania Volunteer Regiment. Very truly yours, 

Elizabeth B. Custer. 



"THE PRIVATE."* 

Here is a song for the private, the gallant and true; 
Though others may plan, he is the one that must do; 
The world may the deeds of the leaders proclaim, 
Here is a wreath for his brow, a song for his fame. 

I learn from the telegraph, hear by the train, 

Of the glory some general by valor has gained, 

Of the "wing he's outflanked," "the fort overthrown," 

And the poem is sung to the leader alone. 

But tell me, oh, tell me, where would he have been 
Had the private not been there the play to begin ? 
Had he sheltered his breast from the steel or the fire, 
Or dared on the march to faint or to tire ? 

Found on a dead rebel officer at Hatcher's Run by J. L. Smith while on the skirmish line. 



— 679 — 

I have heard the debt the nation will owe 
The heroes that over the despot shall throw, 
And only petition that this be its care — 
The private shall have a Benjamin 's share. 

Is a fort to be stormed, a charge to be made, 

A mountain to climb, a river to wade, 

A rampart to scale, a breach to repair, 

'Neath the blaze of artillery — the private is there! 

He might tell what he suffered in cold and in pain, 
How he lay all night long with the wounded and slain, 
Or left with his blood his tracks on the snow 
But never from him the story you'll know. 

He fights not for glory, for well does he know 
The road to promotion is weary and slow ; 
His highest ambition is for freedom to fight, 
To conquer the foe or die for the right. 

Should he fall, perchance, to-day and to-morrow 
His messmates will sigh at evening in sorrow ; 
But onward they march, far, far from the spot, 
And the name of the private is lost or forgot. 

But oh ! on his struggle the pale stars of even 
Look down from the glittering pathways of heaven, 
And angels descend to take his death sigh, 
And the name of the brave is emblazoned oh high. 

Then here is a song for the brave and the true ; 
Though others may f>/an, it is he that must do; 
The world may the deeds of the leaders proclaim, 
Here is a wreath for the private — a song for his fame. 

" LOULA." 



A copy of the following circular was sent to the address of every known com- 
rade. 

HISTORY OF THE 118TH P. V., CORN EXCHANGE 
REGIMENT. 

The object of publishing this work is to place in permanent record marches, 
battles and experiences of the officers and men who composed this regiment. 

Dear Comrade: 

I have been employing some of my time in searching for matters and docu- 
ments relating to the uSth Regiment. I want a complete record of its progress 
from time of organization to its muster-out. 

WILL YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTIONS? 

When and where did you enlist? 
When and zuhere mustered out? 
Were you drafted or substitute? 

Were you in any battles or skirmishes, when and where? 
Note any acts of bravery, &c. 
Were you in any rebel prison ? 
Where were you captured ? 

Do you know of any comrades dying in prison ? name place and date 
When and where were you paroled? 
Were you promoted while in the army? 
If you were, to what position ? 
Were you on detailed duty? 
If so, when and where ? 
What is your present address? 

I trust you will reply prompt and fully, so we can make a complete history. 
Now don't lay this aside ; it is to your interest to attend to this at once. 

Yours truly, J. L. Smith, 

27 South 6th Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 



(680) 



ROSTER 

OF 

ii8th CORN EXCHANGE REGIMENT, 
P. V. 



FIELD AND STAFF OFFICERS. 



Names. 



Rank. 



Enrol- 
ment. 



^ 



Charles M. Prevost 



James Gwyn 



Charles P. Herring 



Henry O'Neill 

James P. Perot 
Charles H. Hand 

Thomas H. Addicks 
Sylvester Day 

William F. Gardner 

Joseph Thomas 
John M. Kollock 

Nelson L. Rowland 



Colonel 

Lt. Col. 

Major 
Adjl. 

Q. M. 



Surgeon 
As'tSur. 



Aug. 28, '62 
Aug. 16, '62 

Aug. 22, '62 

Aug. 15, '62 

Aug. 30, '62 
Nov. 30, '62 



Aug. i, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 



Sep. 18, '62 

Aug. 15, '62 
July 25, '62 

Aug. 6, '62 



Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Resigned Sep. 30, 1863. Ap. Bv.- 
Brig. Gen. March 13, 1865. 

Promoted from Lt. Col. Nov. 1, 1863. Ap. Bv.- 
Bng.G^n. Dec. 2, 1864. and Bv.-Maj.Gen. Apr. 
1, 1865. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. Mustered out with Regt. June i, 1865. 

Promoted from Major, Nov. 1, 1863. Ap. Bv- 
Col. Dec. 2, 1864, and Bv.-Brig. Gen. March 
13, 1865. Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., 
Dec. 13, 1862, and at Dabney's Mills, Va., 
Feb. 6, 1865, with loss of leg. Mustered out 
with Regt. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted from Capt. Co. A Nov. 1, 1863. Ap. 
Bv. Col. Dec. '2, 1864. Mustered out with 
Regt. June 1, 1865. 

Wounded and captured at Shepherdstown, W. 
Va., Sep. 20, 1862. Resigned Jan. 17, 1863. 

Promoted from 2d Lt. Co. F Jan. 17, 1863. 
Ap. Bv.-Capt. Sep. 30, 1864, and Bv. -Major 
April 1, 1865. Mustered out with Regt. June 
1, 1865. 

Resigned Oct. 4, 1862. 

Promoted from Private Co. F to Com. Sgt. 
of Regt. Aug. 14, 1862, and promoted to 1st 
Lt. and Q. M. of Regt. Oct. 22, 1862. Re- 
signed Jan. 8, 1863. 

Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. G Jan. 8, 1863. 
Mustered out with Regt. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Regt. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Surgeon 50th Regt. P. V. Sep. 



I Discharged for disability Dec. 23, 1863. 



(68l) 



— 682 



Nantes. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






John L. Crouse 


As'tSur. 


Sep. 30, '64 


1 


Mustered out with Regt. June 1, 1865. 


Charles E. Hill 


Chap. 


Aug. 30, '62 


3 


Resigned Dec. 24, 1862. 


William O'Neill 


" 


Jan. 29, '63 


" 


Mustered out with Regt. June 1, 1865. 


William Courtney 


Sgt.Maj. 


Aug. 9, '62 




Promoted from Sgt. Co. G Sep. 1, 1864. 
Wounded in action Sep. 30, 1864. Discharged 
for disability June 8, 1865, at Chester, Pa. 


Henry T. Peck 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Promoted to 2d Lt. Co. C Aug. n, 1864. 


Isaac H. Seesholtz 


" 


Aug. i, '62 


'* 


Promoted to 1st Lt. Co. E Jan. 19, 1864. 


Edmund De Buck 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" i Promoted to 2d Lt. Co. I Nov. 1, 1862. 


Robert McKinley 


Q.M.S. 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Promoted from Sgt. Co. B Feb. 1, 1863. Mus- 
tered out with Regt. June 1, 1865. 


John J. Thomas 


*' 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Appointed from Private Co. D Aug. 15, 1862. 
Appointed 2d Lt. of Co. B Oct. 22, 1862. 


John Henry Keener 




Aug. 1, '62 




Promoted from 1st Sgt. Co. H Oct. 22, 1862. 
Reduced to the ranks and transferred to Co. H 
Feb. 1, 1863. 


William F. Doane 


Com. 
Sgt. 


Aug. 5, '62 




Promoted from Sgt. Co. I Dec. 6, 1862. Mus- 
tered out with Regt. June 1, 1865. 


Charles C. Baker 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Appointed from Sgt. Co. B Oct. 22, 1862. 
Transferred to Co. I Dec. 6, 1864. 


Charles F. Dare 


Hospt. 
St. 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Promoted from Private Co. H Sep. 8, 1862. 
Mustered out with Regt. June 1, 1865. 



Total, 2J. 

COMPANY "A. 



Henry O'Neill 
Albert H. Walters 

George W. Moore 

Alexander Wilson 
Nathaniel Bayne 

John Scott 

William T. Godwin 

G. Alfred Schaefer 
James Brown 

Samuel H. Wharton 

James B. Wilson 
Thomas Kelly 
John Bray 

Wesley C. Freed 



Capt. 



1st Lt. 



1st Sgt. 



Sergt. 



Aug. 15, '62 


3 


Sept. 1, '62 


" 


Aug. 1, '62 


« 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


July 17, '63 


" 


Aug. 15/62 


« 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


July 30, '62 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


« 



Promoted to Major Nov. 1, 1863. 

Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. D Feb. io, 1864. Ap. 
Bv.-Maj. July 6, 1864. Resigned Feb. 13, 1865. 

Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. D April 9, 1865. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Resigned May 22, 1863. 

Promoted from 2d Lt. Co. I Oct. 27, 1863, to 
Capt. Co. I, Aug. 9, 1864. 

Wounded at Pegram's Farm, Va , Sep. 30, 1864. 
Promoted from 1st Sgt. to 2d Lt. Jan. 19,1864, to 
1st Lt. Aug. 9, 1864, to Capt Co. F Dec. 16, '64. 

Drafted. Promoted from Sgt. Co. F and mus- 
tered in as 1st Lt. Dec 29, 1864. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Resigned Jan. 19, 1863. 

Promoted from Co. D Mar. 1, 1863. Dis- 
charged Jan. 4, 1864. 

Promoted to 1st Sgt. May 20, 1865. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to 2d Lt. Co. K Oct. 22, 1862. 

Promoted to 1st Lt. Co. B May 19, 1865. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862, 
and at Petersburg, Va., Mar. 29, 1865. Mus- 
tered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



68 3 - 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- "1 S J, 
ment. kj> *> 




Daniel Donovan 


Sergt. 


Aug. 14, '62 3 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


John Flynn 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Deserted Feb. 18, 1863, from Gen. Hospital at 
Frederick, Md. 


Lewis M. Harmer 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 7,1864. No 
record of discharge. 


John Murphy 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Died Jan. 28, 1863, of wounds received at 
Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Henry Smith 


'* 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability May 31, 1865, at Phila., 
Pa. 


Charles \V. Uhl 


Corpl. 


Aug. 7, '62 


<< 


Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 7, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


James G. Wilson 




Aug. 5, '62 




Killed at Shepherdstown.W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 
Buried in National Cemetery, Antietam, Md. 
Sec. 26, Lot A, grave 25. 


Samuel C. Ferguson 


" 


July 31, '62 


" 


Captured at Fredericksburg, Va. Died Jan 8, 
1863, at Lincoln Hospital, Washington, D. C. 


Lewis Dicke! 


" 


July 31, '62 


" 


Discharged May 4, 1863, at Phila., Pa., for 
wounds rec'd at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 
1862. 


William L. Harmer 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Transferred to 62d Co., 2d Battalion, V. R. C, 
March 19, 1864. 


Samuel J. Ewell 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability June 1, 1863, from 
Hospital at West Phila., Pa. 


Mark Silcox 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


'* 


Discharged for disability Mar. 24, 1863, near 
Falmouth, Va. 


Benj. F. Hensel 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


** 


Discharged for disability Oct. 31, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 


William Struble 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 




Died at Alexandria, Va., July 19, of wounds 
rec'd at V/ilderness, Va., May 7, 1864, grave 
2425- 


Jas. S. Hallowell 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Died at Pegram's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864, of 
wounds rec'd in action. 


Samuel L. Parker 




Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Sep. 30, 1864, and 
died of wounds May 6, 1865, at Findley Hos- 
pital, Washington, D. C. 


Wm. M. Read 




Aug. 11/62 


" 


Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va.. Dec. 13, 1S62. 
Discharged by Gen. Order May 19, 1865. 


Phillip Stephens 




Aug. 9, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown. W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 
30, 1864. Discharged from Hosp. for disability 
at Phila., Pa., Oct. 3, 1865. 


Chas. I. Young 




Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Wounded at Chanccllorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. 
Mustered out on Det. Muster-out roll June 3, 
'65, at Harewood Hospital, Washington, D.C. 


John P. Enoch 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Mustered out on Det. Muster-out roll June 
5, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 


Thos. H. Dickinson 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Promoted to Corporal May 20, 1865. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Thomas Scout 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Promoted to Corporal May 20, 1865. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Michael Murphy 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Wounded May 3, 1863. Discharged for dis- 
ability Sep. 18, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 



— 684 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 




* 


John Russell 


Corpl. 


Aug. 2, '62 


3 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Jan. 30, 1863, 
at Convalescent Camp, Va. 


Monroe Bowne 


" 


July 30, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Allen, Richard 


Private 


Aug. 4, '62 


*' 


Discharged Feb. 4, 1863, for wounds rec'd at 
Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Ballhaus, August 


" 


July 15/63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted Aug. 8, 1863, at Bealton 
Station, Va. 


Barton, Hiram E. W. 


" 


July 31/62 


** 


Discharged for disability Nov. 26, 1862, at Fred- 
erick, Md. 


Barry, David H. 


*' 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Killed in action at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 
20, 1862. 


Berry, Richard 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Aug. 1, 1865, at Find- 
ley Hospital, Washington, D. C. 


Bray, Daniel 




Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Dec. 30, 1862, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Bnnton, Jos. E. 




Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1,1863, from Camp Parole, 
Md. 


Brown, Nicholas 


" 


July 15, '63 


« 


Drafted. Deserted Aug. 8, 1863, at Bealton 
Station, Va. 


Brown, Wm. H. 


" 


Sep. 9, '62 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to the Navy May 4, '64. 


Buckley, Joseph 


" 


July 30, '63 




Substitute. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 


Bullock, Thomas R. 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Mar. 9, 1863, at Wash- 
ington, D.C. 


Burns, John J. 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Captured at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Deserted Feb. 27, '64, from Camp Parole, Md. 


Burk, James 


" 


July 30, '63 


'* 


Substitute. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 
5, '64. Died at Annapolis, Md., Dec. 25, 1864. 


Callahan, Chas. 




Sep. g, '63 


" 


Substitute. Wounded at Petersburg, Va., June 
28, 1864. Deserted from Hospital Aug. 10, 
1864, at Chester, Pa. 


Carmon, Michael 


" 


Aug. 13, '64 


" 


Deserted (no date) ; never joined the Regt. 


Carr, John 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 




Deserted April 29, 1863. 


Carroll, Patrick 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 




Deserted Aug. 6. 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Chambers, Samuel 


« 


Aug. xi, '62 




Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 


Clark, Rufus J. 


" 


Aug. 4, '63 


" 


Drafted. Discharged for disability Dec. 30,' 63, 
at Convalescent Camp, Va. ; never joined Co. 


Cline, John W. 


" 


Sep. 8, '63 


" 


Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., 
June 2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., 
Sep. 24, 1864. Grave 9639. 


Condon, Patrick 


" 


Sep. 10, '63 


** 


Substitute. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June i, 1865 


Copes, John 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 13, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Dasey, John 




Sep. 9, '63 


" 


Substitute. Wounded at Weldon R. R. Aug. 
21, 1864. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 


Duncan, William W. 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Wounded at Chancellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. 
Transferred to Co. B, 9th V. R. C. 



— 685 



Names. 



Emrick, George 

Emrick, John 
Enoch, Albert 
Erb, John 
Evans, John 
Fairbrother, Allen 

Farley, James 
Ferguson, Thomas I 

File, Charles 

Foster, William K. 

Gilpin, Nathaniel 

Gillis, Joseph 

Gould, Morgan R. 

Griffith, David 
Gruinder, Henry 
Hagar, Chas. H. 

Haiston, Mercer 



Hallowell, Jacob 
Hamman, John 

Hampton, Thos. 

Harmer, James 
Harmer, Jos. C. 

Hess, Joseph 

Hestert, John 
Hirst, William H. 

Hofnngton, Jos. B. 



Private. 



Enrol- 
ment. 



Sep. 9, '63 

Sep. 9, '63 
Aug. 9, '62 
July 21, '62 
Aug. 9, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 9, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 15, '62 

Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 2, '62 

Aug. 7, '62 

Aug. 15/62 

Aug. 13, '62 
July 16, '63 
Aug. 7, '62 

Aug. 18, '62 



Aug. 14, '62 
Sep. 10, '63 

Sep. 9, '63 

Aug. 13, '62 
Aug. 12, '62 

Aug. 4, '62 

Aug. 13, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 13, '62 






Drafted. Captured at Bristoe Station, Va., Oct. 
15, 1863. Paroled Mar. 9, 1864. Deserted 
Mar. 14, 1864, at Camp Parole, Md. 

Drafted. Deserted Oct. 25, '63, at Auburn, Va. 

Deserted Aug. 31, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. F Mar. 1, 1864. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Died Nov. 8, 1862, of wounds rec'd at Shep- 
herdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, '62. 

Discharged for disability Jan. 30, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Deserted June 17, 1863. 

Deserted April 29, 1863, en route to Chancel- 
lorsville, Va. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, '62. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged Jan. 28, 1863, at Camp Convalescent, 
Va., for wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. 
Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Captured at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Deserted June 17, 1863. Enrolled as John R. 
and deserted as Morgan R. 

Deserted Aug. 24, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. F Mar. 1, 1864. 

Captured at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability April 28, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Originally enlisted in Co. H. 126 P. V., for 9 
months Aug. 18, 1862. Deserted from said 
Regt. Jan. 13, 1863. Assigned to Co. A, 118 P. 
V., by Mil. Com. to serve unexpired term. 
Rec'd in Co. A April 2, 1864, and mustered 
out by expiration of service Sept. 5, 1864. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Weldon R. R., Va., Aug. 
21, 1864 Furloughed for 30 days Mar. 16, 1865, 
from Camp Parole, Md. No later record. 



Drafted. Deserted Dec. 
R., Va. 



1864, at Weldon R. 



Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged Feb. 14, 1863, for wounds rec'd at 
Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862, at 
Phila., Pa 

Discharged Aug. 14, 1865, on Det. Muster-out 
roll, at Phila., Pa. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability July 4, 1864, 
at Phila., Pa., 

Deserted Aug. 24, 1862. at Phila., Pa. 



— 6S6 — 



Names. 
Hoffman, Lewis G. 
Hughes, John 
Humphrys, Thos. 

Jenkins, Jerome 

Keever, Emanuel 

Keiger, Jacob 

Kimball, Geo. A. 
Kleeblatt, Chas. 
Kurtz, Jacob 

Lampy, John W. 

Lanum, James 

Markley, Francis 

Meehan, Joseph 
Milnes, George 
Miller, John H. 

Miller, Mathew 

Miller, William 
Miller, Wm. C. 

Mock, John C. 
Moore, Thomas 

Moulton, J no. M. 
Mower, George 
Mullin, Lawrence 

Murphy, Maurice 

Murphy, Patrick 

McCalley, Owen 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 




Aug. 4, '62 


3 


Sep. 9, '63 


" 


Sep. 13. '63 


" 



Sep. i, '63 
July 18, '63 

Aug. 1, '63 

Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 6, '62 
Aug. 11/62 

Aug. 20, '63 

Sep. 6, '64 

Aug. 11, '62 

Aug. 13, '62 
July 18, '63 
Aug. 12, '62 

Sep. io, '63 

Aug. 5/62 
Aug. 12, '62 

Aug. 11, '62 
Sep. 10, '63 

Aug. 13, '62 
Aug. 12, '62 
Sep. 9, '63 

Sep. 9, '63 

Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 6, '62 



Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1662. 
Deserted May 1, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Died July 7, 1864, at Andersonville, 
Ga., while a prisoner of war. 

Substitute. Wounded at Petersburg, Va., June 
22, and at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Transferred to 25th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C. 

j Drafted Wounded at Petersburg, Va., June 
j 22,1864. Transferred to Co. H, 14th V. R. C, 
I Sep. 10, 1864. 

! Drafted. Mustered out May 21, 1865, on Indi- 
vidual Muster-out roll, near Washington, D. 
C to date May 19, 1865. 

Drafted. Deserted Aug. 28, 1863, at Camp 
Bealton Station, Va. 

Mustered out with Co., June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Aug. 28, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Transferred to 96th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Nov. 25, 1863. 

Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
I 1864. No further record. 

Substitute. Deserted ; forwarded to Regt. Sep. 
j 18,1864. No further record. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred toCo.D, 16th Regt. V.R.C., 
Sep. 10, 1863. Discharged by Gen. Order July 
3, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Jan. 16, 1863, at 
j Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
j 1864. Died Dec. 24, 1864. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability March 24, 1S64, at 
Germantown, Pa. 

Drafted. Died at Andersonville, Ga., June 10, 
I 1864. 

Deserted Aug. 5, 1862. 

Died of disease Dec. 17, 1862, near Falmouth, 
Va. 

Deserted Sep. 12, 1862, at Washington, D. C. 



Drafted. 
Va. 



Deserted Oct. 15, 1863, at Manasses, 



Deserted Jan. I, 1863, from hosp. at Phila., Pa. 

Killed at Petersburg, Va., July 30, 1864. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Transferred to 5th Co. , 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, Sept. 30, 1863. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sept. 20, 
1862. Transferred to Co. F, 21st Regt. V. R. 
C, Sept. 12, 1863, Phila., Pa. 

Deserted Sept. 12, 1862. 



— 6Sy — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


£ £ 
&* 




McCann, John 


Private 


Aug. 7, '62 


3 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Jan. 15, 1863, 
at Phila., Pa. 


McCarty, John 


" 


July 13, '63 


" 


Drafted. Captured at Peeble's Farm, Va., 
Sep. 30, 1864. No later record. 


McCarty, William 


" 


July 15, '63 


'* 


Drafted. Transferred to the Navy May 4, 1864. 


McCool, Romyne 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 24, 1864. 
Grave 9651. Burial record A. McCool. 


McCool, Wm. H. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability April 13, i86s,at Phila., 
Pa. 


McCormick, John 


" 


July 18, '63 


« 


Drafted. Deserted Oct. 19, 1863, at Manasses, 
Va. 


McCorkell, Andrew 




Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Nov. 24, 1863, near 
Kelly's Ford, Va. 


McCrossen, Hugh 




Aug. 13, '62 




Captured at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863. 
Transferred to Co. G, 9th Regt. V. R. C, 
March 15, 1664. Discharged by Gen. Order 
Jan. 22, 1865. 


McElroy, John 




Aug. 14, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to Co. D, 16th Regt. V. 
R. C, Sep. 10, 1863. 


Norris, Joseph 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


* ' 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Newman, Wm. 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to the Navy May 4, 1864. 


Pentzell, Diedrick 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. G, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Phillips, Samuel 




Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sept. 20, 
1862. Buried in National Cemetery, Antietam, 
Md., Sec. 26, Lot A, grave 9. 


Pierson, Wm. M. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 




Captured at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability Feb. 23, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Possinger, Henry 


" 


Mar. 10, '65 


1 


Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 

1865. 


Price, Wm. P 


" 


Sep. 20, '63 


3 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Randolph, Wm. I. 


" 


Nov. 17, '63 


" 


Drifted. Deserted Feb. 24, 1864. 


Riedenbach, Isaac 


" 


Sep. 10, '63 




Drafted. Died Jan. 19, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va., in Brigade Hospital. 


Robertson, Saml. H. 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 




Discharged for disability Dec. 22, 1862, at 
Washington, D. C. 


Rogers, David " 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability May 5, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 


Roney, James 


- 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability Dec. 22, 1862. 


Schmidt, Henry 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Drafted. Also borne as Henry Smith. Deserted 
Aug. 8, 1863, at Bealton Station, Va. 


Schook, Peter 


" 


Sep. 28, '63 


" Drafted. Absent sick at muster out of Co. 


Scout, William 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Shane, Michael 


" 


Aug. 1, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Smith, Thomas 


" 


Sep. 10, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 



— 688 — 



/fames. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Smith, William (i) 


Private 


Aug. 13, '62 


3 


Wounded near Petersburg, Va., June 22, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Smith, William (2) 


" 


Sep. 24, '63 


" 


Substitute. Transferred from Co. I Jan. 21, 1864, 
and transferred back to Co. I March 11, 1864. 


Snow, John 


" 


Sep. 10, '63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted Oct. 25, 1863, at Auburn, 
Va. 


Speadman, Thos. 


" 


Sep. 8, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Specht, Augustus 


" 


Sep. 9, '63 




Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Aug. 
10, 1 864. Grave 5321. 


Stockel, David 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Died March 31 at City Point, Va., of wounds 
received at Five Forks, Va., March 29, 1865. 


Tibbens, Jos. R. 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to Co. H, 9th Regt. V. 
R. C, Sept. 30, 1863. 


Van Gelder, Lem'l J. 


" 


Oct. 1, '63 




Drafted. Discharged for disability April 27, 
1864, at Beverly Ford, Va. Borne as Lemuel 
R. Van Gilder. 


Wainwright, G. W. 


" 


July 31, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Wallace, James 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 




Captured at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability March 17, 1863, at 
Camp Convalescent, Va. 


Wells, Lewis 


*' 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability July 18, 1863, at Hare- 
wood Hospital, D. C. 


Winters, Joseph 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged Jan. 14, 1868, to dale June 
1, 1865. 


Wood, Augustus 


" 


Sep. 30, '63 


" 


Drafted. Discharged for disability July 28, 
1865, at U. S. A. Gen. Hospital, Chester, Pa. 


Wood, John 




Aug. 11, '62 




Captured at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability April 18, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Wulf, Julius 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown. W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp Pa- 
role, Annapolis, Aitl. 



Total, 136. 
COMPANY "B- 



Richard Donegan 
Henry F. Leo 

Richard W. Davids. 
James B. Wilson 

John L. Bell 
Thomas Kelly 
I [orai e P.inney 



Capt. 



1st Lt. 



2d Lt. 



Aug. 19, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 23, '62 
Aug. 5, '62 

Aug. 9, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 
Aug. 23, '62 



Discharged for disability March 31, 1864. 

Promoted from 1st Sgt. to 1st Lt. March 17, 
1864 ; to Capt. Nov. 6, 1864. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Capt. Co. G June 12, 1863. 

Wounded at ( lettysbuig. Pa., July 2, 1863. Pro- 
moted from 2d l.t. Co. K Jan. 12, 1863, to 
Capt. Co. C Jan. 20, 1864. 

Promoted from Sgt. Co. G Nov. 16, 1864, and 
to Capt. Co. F May 1, 1865. 

Promoted from 1st Sgt. Co. A May ig, 1865. 
I Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

'Promoted to 1st Lt. Co. C Sep 20, 1862. 



— 689 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






John J. Thomas 


2dLt. 


Aug. 15, '62 


3 


Promoted from Regt. Q. M. Sgt. Oct. 22, 1862. 
Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Discharged Aug. 17, 1864, to date July 27, 
1864, per S. O. 273, par. 50, W. D. A. G. O. 


Joseph Fenton 


ist Sgt. 


Aug. 13, '62 




Promoted to Corpl. Mar. 17, 1863 ; to Sgt. Nov. 
1, 1863; to ist Sgt. June 1, 1864. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Alfred McQueen 


Sergt. 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Lewis R. Vandegrift 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Promoted to Corpl. May 1,1863; to Sgt. June 
6, 1863. Mustered out with Co. Jun^. 1, 1865. 


Charles F. Stone 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


*' 


Promoted to Sgt. May 1, 1863. Musured out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


David V. Moslander 




Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Promoted to Sgt. May 10, 1863. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


S. G. Luckenback 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 




Discharged on Surgeon's certificate March 2, 
1863, at Phila., Pa. 


K iward Young 




Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Deserted April 28, 1863, near Chancellors ville, 
Va. 


V obert McKinley 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


•■ 


Promoted to Q. M. Sgt. Feb. 1, 1863. 


William Baker 


Corpl. 


Aug. 11, '62 


* ' 


Promoted to Corpl. Mar. 1, 1863. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


John McMillen 




Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Promoted to Corpl. Oct. 31, 1863. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Hugh Hawkins 




Aug. 7, '62 




Wounded at Dabney's Mills, Va., Feb. 6, 1865. 
Discharged for disability Feb. 6, 1865, at 
York, Pa. 


John H. Sheridan 




Aug. 9, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted March 4, 1863, at Alexandria, 
Va. 


Benjamin F. Cox 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Discharged for disability July 6, 1865, at Fair- 
fax Seminary Hosp., Va. 


Thomas D. Woods 




Aug. 13, '62 




Deserted June 13, 1863, and again Mar. 20, 
1864. Tried by G. C. M. Jan. 25, 1865 ; sen- 
tenced to make good time lost by desertion, 
returned to duty F<-b 6, 1865. There is no 
record that he ever rejoined his command. 


John D. Young 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 20, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 


James C. McLawrin 




Aug. 11/62 




Transferred to Co. I, 18th Regt. V. R C, Mar. 
23, 1864. Discharged by Gen. Order June 

29, 1865. 


Erasmus D. Kelly- 




Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Killed at Petersburg, Va., July 27, 1864. 


David P. VVray 




Aug. 16, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out June 5, 1865, with de- 
tachment at Washington, D. C. 


Marshall Craig 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Wounded at Petersburg, Va., Mar. 29. 1865. 
Mustered out May 27, 1865, to date May 26, 
1865, at Phila., Pa. 


George Givons 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. 
No record of discharge. 


Robert Trenwith 




Aug. 14, '62 




Died Aug. 12, 1864, of wounds received in 
trenches near Petersburg. Va. Buried in 
National Cemetery, City Point, Va., Sec. D, 
division 1, grave 151. 



44 



690 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


**• 




Theodore Beardslee 


Corp!. 


Aug. 2, '62 


3 


Mustered out June 6, 1865, on Detachment 
Muster-out roll at Washington, D. C. 


William Jones 


" 


Aug. 18, 'C'3 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Thomas Burroughs 


Mus. 


Aug. 1, '62 


" 


Discharged Aug. 5, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Anderson, Matthew 


Private 


Aug. 13, '62 


« 


Died Oct. 1, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Andrews, Joseph 




July 15, '63 


" 


Substitute alias Joseph Solomon. Transferred 
to 91st Regt. P. V. as deserter, May 14, 
1864. 


Arbuckle, Samuel 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


» 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Banks, James M. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Baker, Edward E. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Deserted June 26, 1863, on the march. 


Baker, Charles C. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


» 


Promoted to Regtl. Com. Sgt. Oct. 22, 1862. 


Barry, John P. 




Aug. 14, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to Co. A, 24th Regt. V. 
R. C, Oct. 11, 1864. Discharged by Gen. 
Order June 28, 1865. 


Bastin, Julius 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 26, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 


Beals, Granville W. 


" 


Oct. 14, '63 


" 


Drafted. Captured at Weldon R. R. Aug. 21, 
1864. No record of death or discharge. 


Bellermere, William 


«• 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 15, 1S62, at Phila., Pa. 


Bruce, George W. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Burns, John 


" 


July is, '63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted May 1, 1864, at Beverly Ford, 
Va. 


Burns, John C. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Deserted Feb. 14, 1863, from hospital at Phila., 
Pa. 


Cameron, Alexander 


» 


Aug. 7, '62 


- 


Discharged for disability Jan. 27, iS63,at Phila., 
Pa. 


Carr, Charles H. 


•• 


Aug. 11/62 


« 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Carr, John G. 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


«« 


Captured, date unknown. Tiansferred to Co. 
H, 1st Regt. V. R. C, Dec. 8, 1863. 


Casteldine, James 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


« 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862 


Collins, George W. 




Aug. 31, '63 


" 


Drafted. Wounded at Peebles' Farm Sep. w, 
1864. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 


Collins, John 


" 


Aug. 10, '63 


*' 


Drafted. Died Nov. 27, 1863, in Libby Prison, 
Richmond, Va. 


Conaughton, Patrick 


" 


July 20, '63 


" 


Drafted. Discharged Dec. 18, 1863, per S. O 
560, War Dept. Alien, not subject to draft. 


Cue, Jacob H. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


« 


Deserted Mar. 10, 1864, from hospital at Phila., 
Pa. 


Cunningham, Sainl. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Wounded in action Aug. 12, 1864. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Croery, Joseph M. 


•• 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 15, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Devenny, John 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted June 27, 1863, on the march. 


Dick, Henry C. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 


Dixon, Robert 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


■• 


Deserted Feb. 20, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 



— 691 



Names. 



Doan, John 
Dowd, Martin V. 

Farrell, John 
Ferguson, John E. 
Fillis, James 

Finen, Patrick 

Fleming, William 
Fry, John M. 
Green, John 
Hackett, Jonathan 
Hargrave, Alfred 

Harvey, William 

Hayes, Dennis 

Hoffman, John 

Howard, James N. 

Hunkett, William 

Jones, Harry 
Kaeb, Henry 
King, William 
Knapp, Henry 

Lancaster, Homer 
Leedy, William 

Levaley, Martin 
Linton, John 

Louderback, Wm. F. 

Lovelass, Robert 

Lovett, William H. 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 



July 24, '63 
Oct. 13, '63 






Aug. 13 


,'62 


Aug. 13 


'62 


Aug. 13 


'62 


Sep. io, 


'63 


Aug. 5, 


'62 


Aug. 13 


'62 


Aug. ii, 


•62 


Aug. 7, 


'62 


Aug. 4, 


'62 


July 24, 


•63 


Sep. 10, 


'63 


Aug. 14 


•62 


Aug. 13, 


•62 


July 15, 


'63 


Aug. 6, 


'62 


Aug. 14, 


'62 


Aug. 20, 


'63 


Oct. 15, 


'63 


Aug. 12, 


'62 


Aug. 20, 


'62 9 


Oct. 14, 


'63 


Sep. 5, 


63 


Sep. 1, 


63 


Oct. 15, 


'63 


Aug. 11, 


'62 



Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June i, 1865. 

Deserted June 16, 1863, near Aldie, Va. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Discharged for disability Sep. 2, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Prisoner from May 21, 1864, to Feb. 
5, 1865. Mustered out June 6, 1865, on Indi- 
vidual Muster-out roll at Annapolis, Md. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted June 20, 1863, in Maryland. 

Wounded at Chancellorsville, Va. , May 5, 1863. 
Transferred to Co. C, 16th Regt. V." R. C., 
Aug. 24, 1863. 

Drafted. Wounded at Petersburg July 27, 1864. 
Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. V., June 
1, 1865. 

Drafted. Discharged Feb. 26, 1864, by order 
of Sec. of War. 

Discharged for disability April 16, 1863, near 
Falmouth, Va. 

Transferred to Co. H, 12th Regt. V. R. C., 
June — , 1863. 

Drafted. Deserted Aug. 16, 1863, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Deserted Oct. 15, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 

Drafted. Transferred to the Navy May 3, 1864. 

'Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness May 5, 1864. 
, No record of discharge. 

(Wounded at Spottsylvania Court House, Va., 
May 12, 1864. Discharged for disability June 
1, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Nine months man. Assigned from 126 P. V., 
Dec. 23, 1863, to make good time lest by de- 
sertion. Mustered out on Individual Muster- 
out roll Sep. 27, 1864, near Petersburg, Va. 

Drafted. Deserted Sep. 16, 1864, at Phila., Pa. 

Deserted May 1, 1864, at Beverly 



Killed at Pegram's Farm, Va., Sep. 



Substitute 
Ford, V 

Drafted. 
30, 1864. 

Drafted. Transferred to 91st Regt. P. V., June 
1, 1865. 

Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



692 — 



Lowery, John 

Loynd, Thomas 

Lybrand, Montni ville 
Martin, Sylvester 



Merrit, John 

Miller, Thomas 

Murphy, John 

Murray, Robert 
Mower, James 

McCosker, James 

McCeyer, Thomas 

McDevitt, Charles 

McGlenn, Hugh 

McGlensey, Andrew 
McLaughlin, Ew'd. 

McManus, Henry 
McQueen, William 

Neel, Thos. Judson 
Oakley, Daniel 
Otis, John 
Parkes, James B. 
Peberdy, Samuel 
Peoples, William 

Perkins, William 

Peyton, John 

Phillips, Edward A. 
Piggott, Jonathan 

Quinn, James P. 



Rank. 



Private. 



Enrol- 
ment. 



July 15, '63 

Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 7, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 



July 30, '63 

Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 5, '62 

Aug. 6, '62 
July 15, '63 

Aug. 11, '62 

July 15, '63 

Aug. 13, '62 
Aug. 8, '62 

Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 29, '63 

Aug. 8, '62 
Aug. 7, '62 

Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 12, '62 

Aug. 13/62 

Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 12, '62 

Aug. 9, '62 
Aug. 28/63 

Aug. 8, '62 



ft* 



Drafted. Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va. , Sep. 
30, 1864. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Chancellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. 
Deserted Oct. 23, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Died July 9, 1864, at Jarvis Gen. Hospital, Bal- 
timore, Md., of wounds rec'd at Wilderness, 
Va., May 5, 1864. Buried in National Ceme- 
tery, Loudon Park, Baltimore, Md. 

Substitute. Deserted Feb. 21, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Transferred to 134th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Jan. 20, 1864. 

Discharged Feb. 27, 1863, for disability at Phila., 
Pa. 

Deserted Oct. 15, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 

Drafted. Deserted Aug. 13, 1863, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Oct. 15, 1862, 
at camp near Sharpsburg, Md. 

Substitute. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June i, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Nov. 18, 1864, in front 
of Petersburg, Va. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 

1862. Mustered out May 30, 1865, on Indi- 
vidual Muster-out roll. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Deserted Mar. 15, 1864, from Carver 
Hospital, Washington, D. C. 

Promoted to Serg. Co. D, Oct. 1, 1863. 

Discharged fordisability Dec. 19, 1862, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Sep. 1, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured, date unknown. Deserted May 1, 

1863, from Camp Parole, Md. 

Discharged for disability Oct. 29, 1862, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Deserted. Returned. Transferred to Co. F, 
91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 

Substitute. Died June 23, 1864, of wounds rec'd 
in action June 2, 1864. 

Discharged by order of Col. Prevost Aug. 30, 
1862. 



— 693 — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Quinn, John 


Private 


July 15, '63 


3 


Substitute. Transferred to the Navy Mav 3. 
1864. 


Reeder, Elias T. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


-< 


Discharged Feb. 8, 1863, near Falmouth, Va., 
by order of Gen. Meade. 


Rheend, Joseph H. 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Captured, date unknown. Deserted May 1, 
1863, from Camp Parole, Md. 


Richardson, John 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


•• 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Ridey, John 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Jan. 26, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 


Riley, Thomas 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Captured at Wilderness, Va. , May 5, 1864. Died 
on transport "Baltic" Nov. 24, 1864. 


Riter, George 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Ryan, George 


" 


July 15, '63 




Substitute. Deserted Feb. 21, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 


Sigglin, Solomon 


" 


Oct. 14, '63 




Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Sherman, Thomas 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted April 6, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 


Smith, Gilbert 


11 


July 13, '63 


" 


Drafted. Prisoner from Aug. 21, 1864, to Mar. 
5, 1865. Mustered out on Individual Muster- 
out roll June 6, 1865, at Annapolis, Md. 


Smith, William M. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Deserted Feb. 26, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 


Snyder, Zac. E. 


" 


Oct. 14, '63 


" 


Substitute. Mustered out with Detachment 
June 3, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 


States, Harvey R. 


" 


Aug. 31, '62 


« 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Stewart, James 




Aug. 13, '62 




Transferred to V. R. C., date and. organization 
not known. He is reported April 30, 1863. 
Detailed as nurse in hospital, Phila., since 
Nov. 15, 1862, and returned to Invalid Dept. 
Name not found in V. R. C. 


Stockton, Charles 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Oct. 21, 1864, near 
Warren Station, Va. 


Toon, Alfred 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


u 


Discharged for disability Feb. 10, 1864, at 
Rendezv. Distribution, Va. 


Walton, William R. 




Aug. 7, '62 




Died Dec. 27 of wounds rec'd at Fredericksburg, 
Va., Dec. 13, 1862. Buried in Military Asy- 
lum Cemetery, D. C. 


Walton, Theodore 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Deserted April 28, 1863, near Chancellorsville, 
Va. 


Wilson, William 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Died Dec. 12, 1863, at Washington, D. C. 


Woodfield, Thos. J. 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Woodhead, John 


" 


Aug. 19, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Jan. 6, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 


Woodward, John F. 


" 


Oct. 15, '63 


" 


Drafted. Mustered out May 22, 1865, on Indi- 
vidual Muster-out roll at Petersburg, Va. 


Yost, John B. 




Aug. 8, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 65th Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, Oct. 19, 1863. Discharged by Gen. 
Order June 29, 1865. 


Young, Theodore 


" 


July 24, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to 91st Regt. P. V., June 
1, 1865. 


Zimmerman, Henry 


" 


Aug. 13/62 


<• 


Deserted April 23, 1863, from Camp Parole, Md. 



Total, 139. 



— 694 — 







COMPANY "C" 


Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


£ 2 

s* 




Dendy Sharswood 


Capt. 


Aug. 16/62 


3 


Died at Phila., Pa., Nov. 20, 1863. 


James B. Wilson 




Aug. 5, '62 




Promoted from ist Lt. Co. B June 20, 1864; ap. 
Bv. -Major Sep. 20, 1864. Mustered out with 
Co. June 1, 1865. 


Lemuel L. Crocker 


ist Lt. 


Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Promoted to Capt. of Co. K Sep. 20, 1862. 


Horace Binney 




Aug. 23, '62 




Promoted from 2d Lt. Co. B Sep. 20, 1862. Hon. 
discharged April 8, 1863, per S. O. 161, A. G. 
O., and restored by S. O. 176, A. G. O., April 
17, 1863. Promoted to Capt. Co. D Aug. 9, 
1864. 


Henry T. Peck 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Promoted from Sgt.-Major Aug. n, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June I, 1865. 


Frank McCutchen 


2dLt. 


Sep. 13, '62 


" 


Resigned Sep. 4, 1863. 


Henry Conner 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Promoted from Sgt. Co. G Jan. 19, 1864, to ist 
Lt. Co. H Dec. 21, 1864. 


C. W. Willingmyer 


ist Sgt. 


Aug. 6, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Commissioned 2d Lt. April 20, 1865. 
Not mustered. Mustered out with Co. June 
1, 1865. 


George W. Williams 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Promoted to ist Lt. Co. I Aug. 11, 1864. 


John Hays, Jr. 


Sergt. 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


George Windle 


" 


Aug. 1/62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 


James B. Noble 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Charles Mickel 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Promoted to Corpl. Jan. 1, 1863. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Nathaniel Bayne 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Transferred to Co. I Jan. 1, 1863. 


William E. Larrison 




Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. i, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 


Joseph Ashbrook 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Promoted 2d Lt. Co. K Mar. 26, 1863. 


James J. Donnelly 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Promoted to Sgt. Jan. 20, 1864; to 1st Lt. Co. 
D May 1, 1865. 


John Michener 


Corpl. 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Edward M. Remick 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Promoted to Corpl. Jan. 1, 1863. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


John C. Davis 




Aug. 5, '62 




Promoted to Corpl. Jan. 1, 1863. Wounded at 
Rappahannock Station, Va., Nov. 7, 1863. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


George H. Reel 


" 


Aug. ii, '62 


" 


Promoted to Corpl. Jan. 1, 1863. Wounded and 
captured at Weldon R. R., Va., Aug. 21, 1864. 
Died while on furlough Mar. 18, 1865. 


Christian Rau 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 




Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Mustered out June 6, 1865, on Individual 
Muster-out roll at Washington, D. C. 


Charles Zachringcr 


" 


Aug. ii, '62 


" 


Wounded at Five Forks, Va., Mar. 31, 1865. 
Discharged for disability Sep. 9, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Robert Manes 


'* 


Aug. 13/62 


" 


Wounded and captured at Wilderness, Va., May 
5, 1865. No further record. 



695 — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


S 4 




Isaac H. Seesholtz 


Corpl. 


Aug. i, '62 


3 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Promoted to Sgt. -Major Jan. 1, 1863. 


Samuel Watson 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Died Oct. 15, 1862, of wounds rec'd at Shep- 
herdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Robert B. Burroughs 




Aug. 11, '62 




Discharged Jan. 12, 1863, at Phila., Pa., for 
wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. 


Charles T. Richards 




Aug. 9, '62 




Discharged Dec. 30, 1862, at Phila., Pa., for 
wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va. , Sep. 
20, 1862. 


Wm. F. McLaughlin 




Aug. 9, '62 




Wounded and captured at Shepherdstown, W. 
Va., Sep. 20, 1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, 
from Camp Parole, Md. 


"Jonathan" Wild 




Aug. i3,'62 




Died of wounds rec'd at Fort McRea, Va., Oct. 
29, 1864, at Armory Square Hospital, Wash- 
ington, D. C. Borne on rolls as Wm. H. Wild 


George W. Kerns 


" 


Aug. 1 1 , '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Baily, Ephraim 


Private 


Aug. 13, '62 




Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1S64. 
Mustered out with Detachment, May 26, 1865, 
at Phila., Pa. 


Baker, Robert 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


•' 


Deserted July 18, 1863, at Berlin, Md. 


Baker, Isaac J. 




July 15, '63 




Drafted. Captured near Bethesda Church, Va., 
June 2, 1864, and sent to Andersonville, Ga., 
June 8, 1864. No further record. 


Barbier, George H. 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Discharged on Surgeon's certificate, Jan. 17, 
1863, at Point Lookout, Md. 


Barbier, John 




Aug. 7, '62 




Returned to duty from hospital, Mar. 2, 1865, 
and enlisted as a substitute in 118th P. V., 
under name of John Bier Mar. 7, 1865. No 
further record. See " Unassigned Men." 


Brick, Martin 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Deserted June 26, 1863, on march to Gettys- 
burg, Pa. 


Brown, George H. 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 




Reported discharged Jan. 25, 1863. No record 
of discharge. 


Broome, John J. 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Deserted Dec. 20, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Bryant, Thomas 




Sep. 29, '63 




Drafted. Died June 5, 1864, while on furlough, 
of wounds rec'd in action May 7, 1864. Rec- 
ord of death and interment shows him mar- 
ried as Jonathan Bryant. 


Buckius, John 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Jan. 26, 
1863, near Falmouth, Va. 


Burns, James 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Burroughs, James F. 




Aug. 13, '62 




Transferred to unassigned Dept. V. R. C, date 
not known. Discharged by Gen. Order July 
10, 1865. 


Carson, Samuel 


" 


Aug. 1, '62 




Deserted from camp near Sharpsburg, Md., Oct. 
20, 1862. 


Clay, John 




July 17, '63 




Drafted. Died Nov. 5, 1864, of wounds rec'd 
at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864, at Harwood 
Hospital, Washington, D. C. 


Cohen, John 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Substitute. Killed at Spottsylvania C. H., Va., 
May 18, 1864. 


Collins, James 


" 


July 15, '63 


•' 


Substitute. Deserted May 1, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 



6 9 6 



Names. 

Collins, Lewis E. 
Conklin, William E. 

Creese, Thomas 

Crowley, John C. 

Danhan, Jason 
Davenport, Chas. H. 

DeBuck, Edmund 
Dick, George W. 
Dougherty, Thos. F. 

Downey, David 

Daval, Basset 

Dyer, George W. 
Dyer, Robert B 

Edwards, William 
Fielding, John 

Folger, Uriah 

Fraley, John P. 

France, Adam J. 
Fries, Richard P. 

Gifford, Alden 

Giles, Henry 

Graham, William 

Gray, William E. 

Hammer, Jacob 
Helverston, Samuel 
Henderson, Thos. J. 
Hewlett, John 
Hilton, William J. 
Hill, Edmund B. 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 




Aug. 7, 


62 


3 


Aug. 12, 


'62 


" 


July 30, 


'63 




Sep. 24, 


•63 




Dec. 1, 


'62 


« 


Aug. 12, 


'6; 


" 


Aug. 6, 


•62 


•< 


Aug. 5, 


'62 


" 


Aug. 7, 


'62 


•* 


Aug. 6, 


'62 


« 


Aug. 7, 


'62 


« 


Aug. 11 


'62 


" 


Aug. 12, 


'62 


" 


Aug. 5, 


'62 


« 


Aug. 11 


'62 


" 



July 15, 63 

Aug. 6, '62 

Aug. 9, '62 
Aug. s, '62 

July 17, "63 

Aug. 12, '62 

July 30, '63 

Aug. 12, '62 

Aug. 8, '62 
Aug. 11, '62 
July 15, '63 

Aug. 8, '62 
Aug. 9, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 



Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 21, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Substitute. Discharged May 1, 1S64, by order 
of War Dept. Transferred to the Navy. 

Substitute. Prisoner from June 2, 1864, to April 
29, 1865. Mustered out June 5, 1865, on In- 
dividual Muster-out roll at Phila., Pa. 

Deserted May 20, 1863, near Falmouth, Va. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Dtserted. Returned. Transferred to 
Co. C, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Sgt. -Major Aug. 6, 1862. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Deserted Sep. 12, 1862, on march from Wash- 
ington, D. C, to Rockville, Md. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Killed at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Mustered out with Detachment May 27, 1865, 
to date May 26, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Substitute. Discharged May 1, 1864, by order 
of War Dept. Transferred to the Navy. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted. Returned. Traasferred to Co. C, 
91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Discharged for disability Nov. 20, 

1863, near Kelly's Ford, Va. 

Discharged for disability Sep. 3, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Substitute. Discharged May 1, 1864, by order 
of War Dept. Transferred to the Navy. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 9, 1863, near 
Kalmuuth, Va. 

Killed at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Mar. 28, 1864, while on furlough. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Transferred from Co. D Mar. 1, 1863. De- 
serted April 29, 1863, on the march to Chan- 
cellorsville, Va. 



697 — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


5 v, 


Hoffner, John D. 


Private 


Aug. 8, '62 


} 


Hubbs, Charles T. 


« 


Aug. 8, '62 


- 


Hunn, William G. 


" 


Aug. n, '62 


" 


JenWns, James 


« 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Jobson, Luke 


•• 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Johnson, Lafayette 


" 


Feb. 17, '63 


« 


Klenck, Herman A. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Knockle, Phillip 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Kurtz, Edward M. 


.. 


Aug. 5, '62 


.. 


Laver, Nathaniel 


" 


July 3. '63 


" 


Lees, Henry 


•' 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Le Blanc, John 


'• 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Lehman, Samuel E. 


- 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Mattson, Charles B. 


•< 


Aug. 11, '62 


« 


Miller, Jacob B. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Moore, Irvin C. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Mishaw, Edward 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


» 


McCoy, Robert 


.. 


Aug. 8, '62 


« 


McElhany, Thos. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Ochse, John J. 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Payne, William J. 


« 


Aug. 9/62 


'< 


Perrine, William 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Rambo, Jonas 


« 


July 15/63 


«' 


Rambo, William 


" 


July 22, '63 


«■ 



Deserted Oct. 15, 1862, from camp near Sharps- 
burg, Md. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Millen, Ga., Nov. i, 1864. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate for disa- 
bility, Jan. 26, 1863, near Falmouth, Va. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Jan. 20, 
1863, at New York. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Nov. 14, 1864. 
Grave 12007. 

Mustered out June 15, 1865, on Det. Muster-out 
roil at Norfolk, Va. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Jan. 29, 

1863, at Phila., Pa. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 59th Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, Sep. 12, 1863. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 

1864. Discharged for disability April 25, 1865, 
at York, Pa. 

Transferred to Co. K, 14th Regt. V. R. C, 
Jan. 24, 1865. Discharged by Gen. Order 
June 28, 1865. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 78th Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, Oct. 19, 1863. Discharged by Gen. 
Order Aug. 12, 1865. 

Deserted Oct. 15, 1862, from camp near Sharps- 
burg, Md. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Cold Harbor June 2, 1864. Mus- 
tered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Died May 12, 1864, at Fredericksburg, 
Va., of wounds at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 



Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability April 21, 1863, 
from hospital at Frederick, Md. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Aug. 1, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Captured at Cold Harbor June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Nov. 18, 1864. 

Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
No further record. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. C,9ist Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 



— 6g8 



Names. 



Rau, Frederick 

Ream, John 

Reel, Henry B. 

Rice, Peter 
Riley, Thomas 
Roulin, Anthony 
Sandgram, M., Jr. 

Shearer, Daniel 
Shinn, Mordecai 

Shuler, Isaac J. 

Shuler, William 

Smith, John R. 

Smith, Thornton 
Snyder, Howard 

Snyder, Joseph, Jr. 

Southwick, Charles 
Steiner, Henry 

Stewart, Joseph B. 

Sthadtler, Daniel 

Swope, William R. 
Teal, Levi 
Thomas, John 
Thompson, H. W. 

Thompson, Thomas 

Turner, William 



Rank. 



Enrol- 
ment. 






Private. 



Aug. 9, '62 

July 13, '63 

Aug. 13, '62 

Nov. 1, '62 
July 15, '63 
Dec. ii, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 7, '62 
July 13, '63 

Aug. 7, '62 

Aug. 6, '62 

Sep. 24, '63 

Oct. 27, '62 
Aug. 11, '62 

July 17, '63 

Aug. ix, '62 
Aug. 5, '62 

July 24, '63 

Nov. 12, '63 

Aug. 8, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 
Oct. 13/62 
Dec. 5, '62 

July 15, '63 

Aug. 7, '62 



Prisoner from June 2, 1864, to April 27, 1865. 
Mustered out on Individual Muster-out roll 
June 5, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Discharged by Chief Mustering-out 
Officer, Eastern Dept., April 18, 1866, to date 
from muster out of Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
He was admitted to hospital at Andersonville, 
Ga., April 13, 1865. No further record. 

Transferred to Co. G, 1st Regt. V. R. C, Dec. 

31, 1864. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 8, 1863, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Discharged Oct. 6, 1864, by order of Sec. of 
War. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Aug. 31 , 1864, 
at Phila., Pa. 

Deserted April 27, 1863, near Falmouth, Va. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Prisoner from June 2, 1864, to April 29, 1865. 
Mustered out on Individual Muster-out roll 
June 8, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Nov. 13, 1862, near Warrenton, Va. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Aug. 
23, 1864. Grave 6534. 

Mustered out with Co. June i, 1865. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability Feb 26, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 



Drafted. 
1864. 



Captured at Weldon R. R., Aug. 2, 
Died at Salisbury, N. C, Dec. 29, 



Drafted. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865L 

Deserted Nov. 13, 1862, near Warrenton, Va. 

Sick in hospital at muster out. No record of 
discharge. 

Substitute. Deserted Jan. 3, 1864, from Mower 
Hospital, Phila., Pa. 

i Deserted Oct. 20, 1862, from hospital at Phila., 
I Pa. 



699 — 



Nantes. 
Van Winkle, John 

Walters, Charies F. 

Walters, George S. 

Watson, Charles 
Welch, Aquilla M. 
Welch, James 
Whiteman, Lafayette 

Wilson, James 
Woodcock, William 
Yeager, William H. 
Young, George C. 

Zane, William F. 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 


fi 


ment. 


£^ 


Aug. n, '62 


3 


Aug. 6, '62 


« 


Aug. 4, '62 


•• 


Aug. 12, '62 


» 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


« 


Sep. 1, '63 


" 


July 15, '63 


» 


Aug. 13, '62 


» 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 




Aug. 13, '62 


" ! 



Transferred to 42d Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
May 3, 1865. Discharged by Gen. Order 
June 29, 1865. 

Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 6, 1864. 
Discharged for disability Sep. 20, 1864, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Discharged for disability May 12, 1865, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Deserted from Rebel Army. Trans- 
ferred to Camp Chase, Ohio, Sep. 20, 1863. 
Mustered out with Det. Sep. 28, 186s, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 8, 1863, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Transferred to Co. F, 21st Regt. V. R. C, Sep. 
12, 1863. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. 
Supposed to have died while a prisoner of war 
at Florence, S. C, on or about Feb. 15, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



Total, 137. 
COMPANY ' 



Charles H. Fernald 


Capt. 


Aug. 25, '62 


3 


Honorably discharged Feb. 1, 1864. 


Horace Binney 




Aug. 23, '62 




Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. C Aug. 9, 1864; ap. 
Bv. -Major Mar. 15, 1865. Mustered out with 
Co. June 1, 1865. 


Albert H. Walters 


1st Lt. 


Sep. 1, '62 


" 


Promoted to Capt. Co. A Feb. 10, 1864. 


George W. Moore 




Aug. 1, '62 




Promoted from 2d Lt. Co. G June 6, 1864. Dis- 
charged July 14, 1864. Reinstated Nov. 30, 
1864. Promoted to Capt. Co. A April 9, 1865. 


James J. Donelly 


" 


Aug 7, '62 




Promoted from Sgt. Co. C May 1, 1865. Trans- 
ferred to Co. H,gist Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 


Saml. M. Mclntire 


2 dLt. 


July 26, '62 


" 


Discharged April 13, 1863, by order of Sec. of 
War. 


Henry McManus 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Prom, from Sgt. Co. B Jan. 19, 1864. Discharged 
July 14, 1864. Disability removed Sep. 7, '64. 


Algeron S. L. Ent 


istSgt. 


Aug. 14/62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Parker Mayhew 


" 


Aug. 19, '62 


" 


Died Oct. 15 1862, of wounds rec'd at Shep- 
herdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


James Boland 


Sergt. 


Aug. 15, '62 


'* 


Promoted to Sgt. Jan. 27, 1864. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Wallace Mayhew 


" 


Aug. 20, '62 


" 


Promoted from Corpl. April 28, 1863. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


David T. Hassinger 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Mustered out on Individual Muster-out roll June 
22, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 



— 7°° — 



Names. 
Stephen B. Anderson 

Robert Maingay 
Christian Bosse 
William Hodgkins 

Samuel D. Boyer 

William Hummell 
William Poole 
Christian Schrack 

Frederick Rue 
Joseph Hartley 
William Kilpatrick 

James Brown 
William Stass 
Alfred Bolton 

Samuel M. Caldwell 

Charles H. Kleaver 

Henry Hammel 
Thomas K. Linton 

David Abrams 
Elijah Wingert 
Edmund B. Hill 

Alphret, Adam 
Ashton, Alfred 

Ashton, William S. 
Augcrcr, William 



Rank. 



Sergt. 



Corpl. 



Mus. 



Private 



Enrol- S -a 
ment. £ ?s 



July 28, '62 3 



Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 7, '62 
July 31, '62 

Aug. 18, '62 

Aug. 13, '62 
Aug. 20, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 20, '62 

Aug. 2, '63 

Aug. 20, '62 

Aug. 5, '62 
Aug. 7, '62 
Aug. 19, '62 

Aug. 15/62 

Aug. 18, '62 

Aug. 18, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 4, '62 
Aug. 6, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 

July 15, '63 
Aug. 15/62 

Aug. 15, '62 
Sep. 1, '63 



Died Sep. 29, 1862, of wounds rec'd at Shep- 
herdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. Buried in 
National Cemetery, Antietam, Md., Sec. 26, 
Lot A, grave 21. 

Died Nov. 24, 1862, of wounds rec'd at Shep- 
herdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Discharged for disability July 24, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Promoted to Corpl. Jan. 1, 1863, and to Sgt. 
Feb. 1, 1863. Captured at Wilderness, Va., 
May 5, 1864. No further record. 

Captured at Cold Harbor June 2, 1864. Died 
at Millen, Ga., Nov. n, 1864. Buried in Law- 
ton National Cemetery, Millen, Ga., Sec. B, 
grave 26. 

Promoted to Corpl. Jan. 1, 1863. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Corpl. Jan. 1, 1863. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Corpl. April 30, 1863. Wounded 
at Wilderness, Va., May 8, and at Peeble's 
Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. Mustered out with 
Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Corpl. June 30, 1863. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Corpl. Aug. 23, 1863. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Corpl. Mar. 15, 1864, Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to 2d Lt. Co. A Mar. 1, 1863. 

Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp Parole, Md. 

Discharged for disability April 29, 1863, at 
Washington, D. C. 

Killed at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1862. Buried 
in National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Pa., Sec. 
D, grave 26. 

Discharged for disability Aug. 25, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30. 1864. 
Discharged for disability June 13, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged May 5, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 

Transferred to Co. C Mar. 1, 1863, by order of 
Col. Gwyn. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 8, '63, near Bealton.Va. 

Transferred to Co. D, 16th Regt. V. R. C, 
Sep. 3, 1862. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor. Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 31, 
1864. Grave 11710. 



— 7oi 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Baum, Joseph M. 


Private 


Aug. 8, '62 


3 


Deserted Sep. 15, 1862, near Rockville, Md. 


Blair, John 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Bluit, Thomas 


** 


Aug. 14/62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Boyd, Charles 




Aug. 19, '62 


" 


Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864, 
and sent to Andersonville, Ga., June 8, 1864. 
No further record. 


Bosche, Frederick 


" 


Aug. i, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted Aug. 8, 1863, near Beal- 
ton, Va. 


Broad, John 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Substitute. Discharged May — , 1864, by order 
of Sec. of War. 


Broadback, Charles 


" 


Aug. 15/62 


« 


Deserted Aug. 31, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Brocker, Nicholas 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Brown, Martin 


" 


Sep. 10, '63 


•• 


Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. No record of death or discharge. 


Brown, James 




Nov. 14, '63 




Drafted. Captured April 23, 1864. Paroled 
Nov. 20, 1864. Confined as a deserter to the 
enemy, and finally sent to the Army of the 
Potomac in irons Dec. 6, 1864. No record of 
discharge. 


Buckner, John C. 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Drafted. Killed near Mechanicsville, Va., May 
30, 1864. 


Burke, Charles R. 


« 


Aug. 15, '62 


•' 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Burton, James 


" 


July 31, '63 


" Substitute. Deserted Aug. 14, 1863, near Bev- 
1 erly Ford, Va. 


Carpenter, John, Jr. 


•' 


Aug. 20, '62 


'• Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Collins, Charles B. 


" 


Aug. 15, 62 


*' [Deserted Dec. 13, 1862, near Fredericksburg, Va. 


Cooke, Arthur B. 


M 


Aug. 14, '62 


" Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Feb. 9, 1863, 
1 atPhila.,Pa. 


Cowden, Alexander 


" 


July 22, '63 


" Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
| V., June 1, 1865. 


Crook, James 


" 


July 24, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Diver, Joseph H. 


" 


Aug. 1, '63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted April 13, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


Donnovan, Dennis 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Prisoner to Dec. 15, 1862. Deserted from Camp 
Parole, Md. No date or further record. 


Dyer, Charles P. 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Died Dec. 22, 1862, near Potomac Creek, Va. 


Euler, Henry 




July 15, '63 




Drafted. Captured at Weldon R. R., Va., 
Aug. 21, 1864. Died at Salisbury, N. C, 
Feb. 28, 1865. 


Everine, Godfrey 


" 


July 17, '63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted Oct. 13, 1863, on the march. 


Farrell, John 


" 


Sep. 24, '63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted Feb. 24, 1864, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


Fields, James 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Jan. 29, 1863. 


Field, John 




Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged to date Mar. 30, 1863. 


Fisher, John F. 


" 


Aug. 18, '62 


" 


Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Feb. 26, 
1863, at Phila., Pa. 


Frank, John 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


•• 


Died Feb. 5, 1863, near Falmouth, Va. 


Frederick, Geo. L. 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Feb. 8, 1863. 



702 



Names. 



Fritz, Henry L. 

Frowert, Daniel 
Frymoyer, John 

Gibson, George R. 

Gibson, Reuben 
Gilbert, George W. 

Greenhalt, Conrad 

Greib, George 
Guillerman, Arwood 
Haines, Asa 
Hall, John M. 

Hamilton, Saml. L. 

Hartley, Alfred V. 
Hartung, August 
Hastien, Charles J. 

Hauret, John 
Heacock, John C. 
Hennessy, James 

Hess, John 

Hill, Robert J. 

Hodges, Henry H. 
Huver, John P. 

Keen, Joseph 

Kerr, Robert 
Kramer, Henry 

Labbere, Robert H. 

Lancaster, John 

Logan, Hugh 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 






July 14, '63 

Aug. 18, '62 
Sep. 10, '63 

July 26, '63 

Aug. 6, '62 
Aug. 18, '62 

Aug. 19/62 

Aug. 11, '62 
July 30, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 
July 31, '63 

Aug. 18/62 

Aug. 18, '62 
Aug. 19, '62 
Aug. 25, '63 

Aug. 5, '62 
July 31, '62 
July 15, '63 

Aug. 20, '63 

Aug. 18, '62 

Aug. 18, '62 
Aug. 20, '62 

July 31, '63 

Aug. 16, '62 
July 31, '63 

Aug. 16, '62 

July 15, '63 

Aug. 6, '62 



Drafted. Discharged for disability Apr 1 8, 
1864, at Washington, D. C. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864, and sent to Andersonville, Ga., June 
8, 1864. No further record. 

Drafted. Missing in action May 8, 1864. No 
further record. 

Deserted April 28, 1863, at Kelly's Ford, Va. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Aug. 24, 
1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Transferred to 130th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Dec. 28, 1863. 

Deserted Sep. 1, 1862, at Baltimore, Md. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Substitute. Discharged May — , 1864, by order 
of Sec. of War. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Transferred to Co. C, 16th Regt. V. R. C, 
Sep. 30, 1863. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Aug. 19, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., July 2, 
1864. 

Deserted Aug. 5, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Deserted April 28, 1863, near Kelly's Ford, Va. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 14, 1863, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 19, 
1864. Grave 11 183. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate April 27, 
1863, at Phila., Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Mar. 28, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Substitute. Deserted April 13, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Deserted Oct. 4, 1862, at Annapolis, Md. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 8, 1863, near Bcal- 
ton, Va. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Mar. 27, 
1863, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June i, 1865. 

Wounded at Shcpherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 42d Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, Mar. 7, 1864. 



703 — 



Marker, William H. 

Masters, Emanuel 
May, David S. 
Mayer, Christopher 
Megonigal, Charles 
Merkle, Henry 
Mezick, John B. 
Miller, Jefferson 
Mitchell, James 

Moitz, Adolph 

Myers, Jonathan 
McLaren, Lawrence 

Newcamp, Phillip 
Phelps, Henry 

Race, Aaron 

Reiff, Albanus L. 
Reinhardt, Anthony 

Rigney, Michael 

Roach, Andrew 

Rose, Charles A. 

Ryley, Henry 
Schaffer, Frank 

Schomberg, Fred. 
Seher, Henry 

Shmit, Frederick 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 

Aug. 19, '62 



Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 6, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 
July 17, '63 
Aug. 27, '63 
Aug. 20, '62 
July 17, '63 
Aug. 14, '62 

July 15, '63 

Aug. 8, '62 
Aug. 16, '62 

Aug. 20, '62 
July 17, '63 

July 31, '62 

Aug. 15, '62 
Sep. 5, '63 

July 24, '63 

Aug. 18, '62 

Aug. 1, '62 

Aug. 1, '62 
Aug. 7, '63 

July 31, '62 
July 17, '63 

Aug. 19, '62 






Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 10, 1864. 
Grave 10164. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Mar. 24, 
1863, near Falmouth, Va. 

Discharged by Uen. Order June 20, 1865, on In- 
dividual Muster-out roll at Phila., Pa. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 19, 1865, at Wash- 
ington, D. C. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 
20, 1864. 

Deserted Mar. 3, 1863, from Harwood Hospital, 
Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 13, 
1864. Grave 8691. 

Deserted Aug. 8, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864, 
and sent to Andersonville, Ga., June 8, 1864. 
No further record. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Transferred to 39th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Sep. 26, 1863. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded at Po River, Va., May 12, 
1864. Deserted May 14, 1864, from 1st Div. 
Hospital, 5th A. C. 

Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. No 
further record. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Deserted Feb. 23, 1865. 

Deserted Aug. 1, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va.. May 8, 
1864. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 

Died Sep. 27, 1862, of wounds rec'd at Shep- 
herdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. Buried in 
National Cemetery, Antietam, Md., Sec. 26, 
Lot A, grave 23. 



— 7°4 — 



Names. 



Simpson, James A. 
Simpson, Samuel 

Simpson, William H. 

Smith, Andrew C. 
Smith, Charles 
Snyder, William 

Stevenson, John 

Stone, Edward 
Taylor, George 

Thomas, John J. 

Thompson, Thomas 

Thompson, William 
Turner, William G. 

Vennable, Samuel 
Wack, John F. 
Wallwork, Timothy 

Ward, Charles 

Ward, Francis 
Ward, George W. 

Weeber, Frederick 

Well, Conrad 
Wells, Edward 

Wilson, Joseph 

Wilson, Robert 
Wortman, Antonia 

Wright, George 
Yauchler, Alfred 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 



Aug. 13, 
July 15, 



Aug. 13, '62 



Aug. 18, 
Sep. 24, 
Aug. 26, 



Aug. 18, '62 



Aug. 15, 


'62 


July 30, 


'63 


Aug. 15, 


'62 


Aug. 14, 


'62 


Aug. 14, 


'62 


Aug. 8, 


'62 


Aug. 18, 


'62 


Aug. 4, 


Y, j 


Nov. 16 


'63 



Aug. 15, '62 



Aug. 15, 
Aug. 14, 



Aug. 12, '62 



Aug. 16, 
July 15, 



Aug. 5, '62 



Feb. 3, 
July 20, 

Aug. 19, 
Sep. 5, 






Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Drafted. Discharged for disability Nov. 20, 

1863, near Kelly's Ford, Va. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Dec. 3, 1862, 
at Washington, D. C. 

Died Jan. 4, 1863, of wounds rec'd in action, 
at Harewood Hospital, Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Discharged May — , 1864, by order 
of Sec. of War. Transferred to the Navy. 

Drafted. Discharged by Gen. Order June 15, 
1865, on Individual Muster-out roll at Wash- 
ington, D. C. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 3, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Deserted Sep. 2, 1862, at Baltimore, Md. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 14, 1863, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Appointed Qr. Mas. Sgt. of the Regt. Aug. 15, 
1862. 

Discharged for disability May 19, 1865, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Deserted Aug. 14, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Discharged for disability June 6, 1865, at Bris- 
tof, Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted from Camp Parole, Md., no date given. 

Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 

1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 3, 
1864. Grave 7680. 

Died Dec. 22 of wounds rec'd at Fredericks- 
burg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Died Dec. 22 of wounds rec'd at Fredericks- 
burg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Discharged for disability July 23, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Deserted Sep. t2, 1862, from Balloon Corps. 

Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 5, 1864. 
Grave 10426. 

Transferred to Co. F, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 
1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Aug. 19, 
1864. Grave 6133. 

Deserted Dec. 29, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Discharged for disability Mar. 25, 
I 1865, at Phila., Pa. 



Total, 14b. 



705 



COMPANY "E- 



Nantes. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Lewis Passmore 


Capt. 


Aug. 15/62 


3 


Resigned Oct. 11, 1862. 


John V. Hunterson 


" 


Aug. 20, '62 


" 


Discharged Feb 14, 1865. Disability removed. 


Samuel N. Lewis 


ist Lt. 


Aug. 20, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Promoted from 2d Lt. Mar. 9, 1863. 
Resigned Nov. 27, 1863. 


Isaac H. Seesholtz 


" 


Aug. 1, '62 


" 1 Promoted from Sgt. -Major Jan. 13, 1864, to 
j Capt. Co. K Dec. 14, 1864. 


Robert Paschall 




Aug. 2, '62 


" j Promoted from Corpl. to Sgt. Oct. 1, 1862; to 
I ist Lieut. Dec. 16, 1864. Mustered out with 
Co. June 1, 1865. 


William W. Worrell 


2 dLt. 


Aug. 14, '62 


" Promoted from ist Sgt. Co. I Oct. 22, 1862. 
Resigned April 1, 1863. 


John Canahey 




Aug. 8, '62 


" Promoted to ist Sgt. Sep. 20, 1862; to 2d Lt. 
Jan. 19, 1864. Killed at Pegram's Farm, Va., 
J Sep. 30, 1864. 


Alexander McCart 


ist Sgt. 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 1 Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Thomas W. Joy 




Aug. 4, '62 


" 1 Discharged on Surgeon's certificate April 7, 
1 1863, at Camp Convalescent, Va. 


James H. Haman 




Aug. 7, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Richard Roberts 


Sgt. 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Transferred to Co. D, 14th Regt. V. R. C, 
Dec. 14, 1864. 


Jere McLaughlin 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Francis Daly 




Aug. 2, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, -W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Det. May 15, 1865, 
at Phila., Pa. 


Charles C. Shepherd 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 




Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 29, 1864. 
Grave 9985. 


Augustus Luker 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 'Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Samuel F. Delany 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


| Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Richard L. Sandford 


Corpl. 


Aug. 11, '62 


" Dischargedfordisability Mar. 16, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 


George P. Cullen 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 'Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Feb. 21, 
1 1863, at Camp Convalescent, Va. 


William F. Connelly 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


John R. Selkirk 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 31, 1862, at Philadelphia, Pa. 


Joseph R. Stetler 




Aug. 7, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown. W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Killed at North Anna, Va., May 22, 
1864. 


•George Andress 




Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to Co. D, 16th Regt. V. 
R. C, Sep. 10, 1863. 


B. E. Fletcher, Jr. 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Wounded at Chancellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. 
Killed at White Oak Road, Va., Mar. 31, 1865. 


J W. Larziliere 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Captured at Weldon R R Aug. 21, 1864. Died 
at Salisbury, N. C, Nov. 18, 1864. 


Francis H. Lincoln 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability May 18, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 



45 



— 7°6 — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 




Charles Taylor 


Corpl. 


Aug. ii, '62 


3 


De Witt Rodermel 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


« 


George W. Wade 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Henry Hallman 


•• 


Aug. 6, '62 


•• 


William McLachlin 


•' 


Aug. 7, '62 | " 


John McDonough 


» 


Aug. 14, '62 , " 


Levi Rex 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 " 


James Crawford 


Mus. 


Aug. 2, '62 " 


Ache, Henry M. 


Private 


Mar. 23, '65 | 1 


Adams, Stephen L. 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


3 


Alloways, Joseph L. 


" 


July 17, '63 


" 


Bachman, Jacob H. 


" 


Aug. 20, '63 


" 


Baker, James 


•< 


Aug. 11/62 


•« 


Baker, Thomas M. 


<• 


Aug. 8, '62 


« 


Benson, George 


" 


Feb. 27, '65 


1 


Bennett, James H. 


" 


Aug. 25/63 


3 


Brown, Samuel 


" 


Aug. 20, '63 


" 


Bruce, Joel R. 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


- 


Butler, James L. 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Butterworth, Wm. 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Byram, Joseph 


ii 


Aug. 11/62 


" 


Clark, William M. 


" 


Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Cobbs, Benjamin S. 


•* 


Nov. 14, '62 


" 


Cohen, John 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Colville, Henry 


'• 


Aug. 9, '62 


«« 


Collins, George 


" 


July 15/63 


" 


Cue, Richard 


•' 


Aug. 6, '62 


« 



Transferred to Co. B, 12th Regt. V. R. C, July 
29, 1863. Discharged by Gen. Order June 28, 
1865. 

Transferred to 5th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Sep. 23, 1864. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 5, 1864. 
Grave 7933. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Feb. 6, 1863, 
at Phila., Pa. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1 1865. 

Substitute. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Substitute. Discharged for disability Feb. 29, 
1864, at Camp Barnes, Va. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Millen, Ga., correct date 
not known. Buried in Lawton National Cem- 
etery, Millen, Ga., Sec. A, grave 163. 

Discharged for disability Jan. 26, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Substitute. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Discharged for disability April 27, 
1864, near Beverly Ford, Va. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
, 1864. Died Oct. 25, 1864, at Millen, Ga. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., July 10, 1864. 
Grave 3097. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Feb. 16, 

1863, at Camp Convalescent, Va. 

Died May 31, 1863, at Morrisville, Va. 

Deserted July 4, 1863, at Gettysburg, Pa. 

Deserted May 25, 1863, near Falmouth, Va. 

Substitute. Discharged by Gen. Order from 
War Dept. May 15, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Mar. 10, 1864, near 
Beverly Ford, Va. 

Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., 
June 2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., 
Jan. 19, 1865. Grave 12478. 

Deserted Aug 6, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 
Pa. 



— 707 — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


3 




De Haven, Chas. T. 


Private 


Aug. 5. '62 


Mustered out with Co. June i, 1865. 


Dubois, Albert 


u 


July 31/63 


" 


Substitute. Mustered out with Det. Sep. 28, 
1865, at Phila., Pa. (Rebel deserter.) 


Durst, William 


" 


Aug. 24, '63 




Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Nov. 2, 
1864. 


Edwards, Griffith H. 


" 


Aug. 7/62 


" 


Deserted July 4, 1863, at Gettysburg, Pa. 


Edwards, Hugh J. 




Aug. 7, '62 




Captured at Fredericksburg, Va. , Dec. 13, 1862. 
Wounded at Five Forks, Va. , Mar. 31, 1865. 
Mustered out on Individual Muster-out roll 
June 8, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 


Emery, Abram 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 




Discharged May 8, 1863, for wounds rec'd at 
Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Erisman, Jacob R. 




Aug. 20, '63 




Drafted. Killed at Pegram's Farm, Va., Sep. 
30, 1864. Buried in Poplar Grove National 
Cemetery, Petersburg, Va., Sec. D, Div. D, 
grave 62. 


Faulkner, Peter 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 81st Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, May 17, 1864. 


Fay, John 


" 


Sep. 9, '63 




Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., 
June 2, 1864. Honorably discharged to date 
June 1, 1865. 


Fletcher, James 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Franklin, James 




July 15, '63 




Substitute. Captured Oct. 18, 1863. Paroled 
Nov. 17, 1863, at City Point, Va. Reported 
at Camp Parole, Md., same day. No further 
record. 


Freeman, Jackson 


" 


July 30, '63 


" 


Substitute. Transferred to the Navy May 4, 1864. 


Gebhart, John 


" 


Mar. 27, '65 


1 


Substitute Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 


Glascoe, Thomas R. 


'* 


Aug. 6, '62 


3 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Gordon, Joseph E. 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 6, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Gorman, Thomas 


'* 


Aug. 2, '62 


« 


Deserted Sep. 9, 1862, at Fort Corcoran, Va. 


Gotwals, Henry R. 




Aug. 8, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Cold Harbor, Va. , June 2, 1864. 
Died on or about Dec. 25, 1864, at Anderson- 
ville, Ga. 


Govlier, Joseph 


" 


Mar. 27, '65 


1 


Substitute Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 


Gubser, Andrew 


" 


Sep. 9, '63 


3 


Substitute. Discharged for disability Mar. 25, 
1864, near Beverly Ford, Va. 


Haas, Jacob 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 1, 1863, at Manassas Junction, Va. 


Hall, Alexander 




July 31, '63 




Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., 
June 2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., 
Oct. 14, 1864. 


Haman, Jacob 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 




Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 2, 1864. 
Grave 10227. 


Hansell, Lewis 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 




Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Transferred to Co. D, 16th Regt. V. R. C, 
Sep. 10, 1864. 


Harding, John H. 


" 


Sep. 9, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted Sep. 27, 1863, while on 
picket. 



70S — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Hart, Jesse H. 


Private 


Aug. 5, '62 


3 


Discharged June 5, 1865, on Individual Muster- 
out roll, at Washington, D. C. 


Holmes, Stephen 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Discharged on Surgeon's certificate April 16, 
1863, at Camp Convalescent, Va. 


Johnson, Wm. P. 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 22, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 


Johnston, Cunning- 
ham 




Aug. 13, '62 




Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Prisoner 9 months at Andersonville, Ga. 
Paroled and drowned by sinking of Steamer 
Massachusetts, 'April 23, 1865. 


Johnston, Thos. K. 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Judge, Bernard 


'* 


Oct. 15, '62 


" 


Deserted. Never reported to Regt. 


King, John L. 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Mustered out witn Co. June 1, 1865. 


Kramer, George W. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


« 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Kramer, John N. 


*' 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Krausz, John W. 




July 20, '63 




Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Kresge, Israel 


•• 


Nov. 2, '63 


" 


Drafted. Discharged for disability May 12, 
1865, at Finley Hospital, Washington, D. C. 


Kresge, Levi 


" 


Nov. 2, '63 


" 


Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864, and sent to Andersonville, Ga., June 
8, 1864. No further record. 


Lancaster, Chas. E. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Captured, and died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 

9, 1864. 


Lehman, R. W. 




Aug. 11, '62 




Captured at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862, 
and at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. Died 
Oct. 26, 1864. Buried in National Cemetery, 
Millen, Ga., Sec. B, grave 43. 


Lindsey, John 




Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Died Jan. 19, 1863, of wounds rec'd at Freder- 
icksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 


Lowry, Edward 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Transferred to Co. E, 1st Regt. V. R. C, Dec. 

12, 1863. 


Lutz, Asbury 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Mahan, Daniel 




Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Captured at Cold Harbo», Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Nov. 17, 1864. 
Grave 12088. 


Mann, Paschall B. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability April 27, 1863, at 
Camp Convalescent, Va. 


Maremback, John 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Miller, Henry 




Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Wounded at Chancellorsville, Va., May 13, 1863. 
Deserted Jan. 30, 1863, from Hospital at 
Phila., Pa. 


Moyer, Wm. M. 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Muledore, Wm. H. 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Munch, Henry 




Aug. 5, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Dec. 16, 1863, 
at Phila., Pa. 


Myers, Andrew 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Substitute. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 



— 7o 9 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


1* 




Myers, Jacob 


Private 


July 17, '63 


3 


Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 
1864. Transferred to 55th Co., 2d Battalion, 
Jan. 7, 1865. 


Myers, Peter 


" 


July 31, '63 


" 


Substitute. Died Mar. 18, 1864, at Richmond, 
Va. 


McBride, John 


" 


Aug. 14, '63 


" 


Drafted. Captured at Weldon R. R.,Va., Aug. 
21, 1864. Died Nov. 14, 1864, at Salisbury, 

N.C. 


McCarter, Wm. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Detachment May 15, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 


McGinn, Wm. 


" 


Aug. 14, '63 




Substitute. Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., 
Sep. 30, 1864. Mustered out with Detach- 
ment at Chester, Pa. 


McKnight, Gordon 


*• 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 


Neath, James 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Died Dec. 3, 1862, near Falmouth, Va. 


Nehle, Jacob 




Mar. 27, '65 


1 


Substitute, also borne as Nahle and Mahle. 
Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. V., June 
1, 1865. 


Nickolas, Chas. A. 




Aug. n, '62 


3 


Discharged Feb. 3, 1863, at Phila., Pa., for 
wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. 


Nicqlas, Patrick 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" Deserted April 30, 1863, from Hospital at Phila., 
Pa., also borne as Nickolas. 


Odell, William H. 


" 


July 17, '63 


" Drafted. Captured at Weldon R. R., Aug. 21, 
1864. Died Nov. 27, 1864, at Salisbury, N. C. 


Paden, Joseph 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" ! Discharged for disability Dec. 22, 1862, at 
Frederick, Md. 


Pancoast, Samuel A. 


" 


Aug. 13, 62 


" Killed at Wilderness, Va , May 8, 1864. 


Possinger, Henry 


" 


Mar. 10, '65 


1 


Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 

1865. 


Price, Benjamin 


" 


July 17, '63 


3 


Substitute. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 


Price, Robert 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" Captured. Died at Andersonville, Ga., July 30, 
1 1864. 


Raw, Charles F. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Rayson, George W. 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Deserted July 4, at Gettysburg, Pa. 


Renker, Elias 


*' 


Nov. 2, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Rex, Samuel 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Escaped from Forrest Hall Prison, Georgetown, 
D. C. No date given. No further record. 


Rhoads, Levi 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted April 30, 1863, from Hospital 
at Phila., Pa. 


Rivert, Edward 


" 


Mar. 27, '65 


1 


Substitute. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Roberts, William J. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


3 


Deserted July 4, 1863, at Gettysburg, Pa. 


Robinson, Geo. W. 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 




Discharged by General Order, May 30, 1865, at 
Washington, D. C, per Individual Muster- 
out roll. 


Sassman, Henry 


" 


July 29, '63 


" 


Drafted. Died June 4, 1864, at Phila., Pa., of 
wounds rec'd in action. 



— 7 IQ — 



Names. 
Sawyer, Charles 

Simpson, William 

Smith, Abram J. 

Smith, Benj. F. 
Smith, David 

Smith, Isaac A. 

Smith, Wm. W. 
Stewart, James 
Stotsenberger, Jere. 
Thompson, James 

Vantyke, Geo. W. 
Walenberger, John 

Ward, Thomas 
Weiant, John H. 

Williams, Charles 

Williams, George 
Williams, Harry F, 

Williams, John 

Woolson, John L. 

Yohn, John B. 
Zane, William P. 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 




Aug. 8, '62 


3 


Sep. 8, '63 


" 


Aug. s, '62 


1 " 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


July 18, '63 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


•• 


Aug. 7, '62 


« 


July is, '63 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


- 


Aug. 8, '62 


« 


Oct. 15, '62 


•< 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


•< 


Nov. 14, '63 


" 


July 30, '63 


" 


Oct. 16, '62 


" 


Aug. 13/62 


" 


July 5, '63 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


« 


Aug. 11/62 





Discharged June 8, 1863, at 2d Div. Hospital, 
Alexandria, Va., for wounds rec'd at Freder- 
icksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Substitute. Deserted Oct. 24, 1863, while on 
the march. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp Parole, Md. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va. , Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 5, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Substitute. Transferred to the Navy May 4, 



Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. V., to serve 
out sentence of Court Martial. 

Wounded at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863, and 
at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability June 17, 1864, at Phila., 

Pa. 
Died Mar. 4, 1863, at Washington, D. C, of 

wounds rec'd at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 

1862. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Died Sep. 20, 1864, at Lincoln Gene- 
ral Hospital. D. C. Buried in National 
Cemetery, Arlington, Va. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 8, 1863, near Beverly 

Ford, Va. 
Deserted. Never reported to Regt. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va , June 2, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Substitute. Discharged by Gen. Order from 
War Dept., May 15, 18^5. 

Deserted. Returned. Transferred to Co. I, 
91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 23, 1864. 
Grave 11 327. 



Total, 147. 

COMPANY "F." 



John P. Bankson 
John Scott 

John L. Bell 



Capt. 



Aug. 20, '62 
Aug. 15/62 

Aug. 9, '62 



Resigned March 23, 1864. 

Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. A Dec. 16, 1864. 

Killed at Dabney's Mills, Va., Feb. 6, 1865. 
Wounded at Five Forks, Va., March 31, 1865. 

Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. B May 1, 1865. 

Transferred to Co. A, 91st Regt. P. V., June 

1, 1865. 



— 7ii 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


£ £ 
£ ^ 




Henry K. Kelly 


ist Lt. 


Aug. 20, '62 


3 


Promoted to Capt. Co. G, Oct. 27, 1863. 


Daniel S. Ware 




Aug. 14, '62 




Promoted from ist Sgt. Jan. 19, 1864. Died 
June 21, of wounds rec'd at Cold Harbor, 
Va., June 4, 1864. Buried in National Ceme- 
tery, Arlington, D. C. 


Thomas J. Reed 




Aug. 6, '62 




Promoted from ist Sgt. to 2d Lt. March 13, 
1864; to ist Lt. Aug. 11, 1864. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Charles H. Hand 


2dLt. 


Sep. 8, '62 




Promoted from ist Sgt. Co. K, 75th Regt. P. 
V., Sep. 20, 1862. Captured at Shepherds- 
town, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. Promoted to 
Adjutant Jan. 17, 1863. 


Barzilia J. Inman 




Aug. 15/62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Promoted from ist Sgt. Jan. 17, 1863. 
Wounded at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863. 
Discharged Mar. 12, 1864. 


George W. Haines 


IStSgt. 


Aug. 16, '62 


" iWounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sept. 30, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June i, 1865. 


Charles Smith 


Sergt. 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Deserted June 20, 1863. 


John Rafferty 




Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Wilderness, May 5, 1864. Mus- 
tered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Joseph Turner 




Aug. 7, '62 




Wounded at Dabney's Mills, Va., Feb. 6, 1865. 
Discharged by Gen. Order May 31, 1865, per 
Individual Muster-out roll at Washington, 
D. C. 


John H. Williamson 




Aug. 9, '62 




Died Sept. 15, 1864, at Mount Pleasant Hos- 
pital, Washington, D. C. Buried in National 
Cemetery, Arlington, D. C. 


Joseph L. Rhoads 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 2, 1863, at 
Emory Hospital. 


Miles B. Carpenter 


" 1 Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Deserted Feb. 12, 1863. while on furlough. 


Henry Longacre 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


William T. Godwin 




July 17, '63 




Drafted. Promoted Sgt. Aug. 11, 1864. Dis- 
charged Dec. 28, 1864, for promotion to ist 
Lt. Co. A. 


Samuel S. Green 


Corpl. 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va. , Sep. 20, 1862. 


Charles Silcock 


" 


July 29, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 4, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 


• 
Frederick Bubeck 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Prisoner from June 2, 1864, to April 27, 1865. 
Discharged by Gen. Order June 8, 1865, per 
Individual Muster-out roll at Phila., Pa. 


William Hodge 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Robert A. Hill 




Aug. 5, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 81st Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C., May 17, 1864. 


George W. Inman 




Aug. 11, '62 




Wounded at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863. 
Discharged for disability Feb. 5, 1864, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Alexander McCay 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 




Killed at Pegram's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Buried in Poplar Grove National Cemetery, 
Petersburg, Va., Div. C, Sec. D, grave 96. 


John Reppert 




A «g- '5. ' 02 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va. , Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 



712 — 



George W. Brown 



Joseph Murphy (ist) 
F. H. Vandergrift 



Robert McAllister 
James McCabe 
G. H. Baker 

George Carteret 
George W. Eastman 

Bahl, Washington 
Benjamin, Chanceler 

Boone, John 
Callahan, James R. 

Coglever,SandfordG. 



Connar, James 
Cooper, Charles 

Davis, Thomas J. 
Davis, Thomas 
Day, Sylvester 
Deen, Charles 
Derousse, William 
Devitt, John 
Downie, William 
Dunlap, Thomas 



Corpl. 



Mus. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 

Aug. 6, '62 



Aug. 13, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 



Aug. 4, '62 
Aug. 5, '62 
July 14, '63 

Aug. 15, '62 
Aug. 8, '62 

Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 7, '62 

Aug. 11, '62 
Aug. 4, '62 

Oct. 14, '63 

Sep. 10, '63 
Aug. 13/62 

Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 11/62 
Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 13/62 
Aug. 15, '62 
July 20, '63 
July 15, '62 
Aug. 11/62 






Captured at Weldon R. R., Va., Aug. 21, 1864. 
Took oath of allegiance with rebels. Re- 
captured and released on taking the oath of 
allegiance July 5, 1865. Ordered to be re- 
leased Nov. 9, 1865, by order of Sec. of War, 
at Camp Cadwalader, Phila., Pa. Not en- 
titled to receive any consideration as a soldier 
of the United States. 

Mustered out with Co. Tune 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown. W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862 Wounded at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 
1863. Discharged by Gen. Order May 24, 
1865, at Jarvis U. S. A. Gen. Hospital. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted July 1, 1863. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. D, 9th Regt. V. 
R. C, Aug. 2, 1864. Discharged by Gen. 
Order July 20, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged Feb. 20, 1863, at Washington, D. C, 
for injuries ree'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., 
Sep. 20, 1862. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Died Nov. 22, 1862, at Phila., Pa., of wounds 
ree'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. 

Killed at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Discharged Dec 4, 1862, at Baltimore, Md., for 
wounds ree'd at Antietam, Md., Sep. 17, 
1 1862. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Mustered out with Detachment May 
27, 1865, to date May 26, 1865, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Drafted. Deserted Oct. 6, 1863, near Culpep- 
per, Va. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Aug. 20, 1863, 
at Phila., Pa. , 

Absent. Sick at muster out of Co. No further 
record. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Com. Sgt. Aug. 14, 1862 ; to Quar- 
ter-Master Oct. 22, 1862. 

Discharged for disability June 11, 1863, at Fort 
McHenry, Md. 

Discharged for disability March 25, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Discharged, to date Jan. 19, 1866, by 
Order of War Dept. 

Died Sep. 29 of wounds ree'd at Shepherds- 
town, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Discharged for disability March 14. 1863. at 
Phila., Pa. 



7^3 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Edwards, Erastiis 


Private 


Oct. 14, '63 


3 


Drafted. Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 
30, 1864. Transferred 1069th Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, April 27, 1865. Discharged by Gen. 
Order Aug. 23, 1865. 


Emmitt, Robert 




Aug. 6, '62 




Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Erb, John B. 




July 21, '63 




Drafted. Prisoner from May 7, 1864, to Dec. 
10, 1864. Discharged by Gen. Order June 6, 
1865, per Individual Muster-out roll, at An- 
napolis, Md. 


Farfire, Martin 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Detachment May 26, 1865, 
at Phila., Pa. 


Ferrall, Lewis T. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 8, 1863. 


Fordney, Sam. T. 




Aug. 6, '62 




Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. V., June 
1, 1865. 


Fowler, William 


" 


July 30, '62 


" 


Deserted July 1, 1S63. 


Fuller, William T. 


" 


Oct. 12, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Garmon, John 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Genn, William 


" 


July 30, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted April 27, 1863. 


Ginaman, John 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Gruinder, Henry 




July 16, '63 




Drafted. Prisoner of war June 2, 1864. Mus- 
tered out on Individual Muster-out roll July 
3, 1865, at Annapolis, Md. 


Hart, Thomas 


" 


Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Killed at Pegram's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 


Henry, George B. 


" 


July 11, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. F, 6th Regt. V. 
R. C, April 22, 1864. 


Hess, Levi L. 




July 17, '63 




Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864, and died on or about Nov. 16, 1864, at 
Florence, S. C. 


Hodge, Samuel 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Hornby, Robert 




Aug. 12, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Detachment, June 
21, 1865, at Chester, Pa. 


Hurley, Joseph • 


" 


July 29, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 25, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 
Pa. 


Jackson, John 


" 


Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Johnson, John M. 




Aug. 7, '62 




Taken prisoner at Beecher's Church, Va. , and 
died at Andersonville, Ga., on or about Oct. 
16, 1864. 


Keel, Jordon 




Aug. 11, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. 
No further record. 


Kelly, Robert 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted April 23, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


King, William H. 


" 


July 28, '62 


<• 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Kohler, George 


" 


Aug. 1, '63 


11 


Drafted. Deserted Jan. 23. 1864, while on fur- 
lough to Phila., Pa. 


Kyle, William 




Aug. 8, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 4, 1864. 
Grave 7781. 



7H — 



Natnes. 



Enrol- 
ment. 






Lilly, Joseph 
Linck, Joseph 

Little, John H. 

Long, George W. 
Longacre, Jacob 

Malcamson, Samuel 
Mallon, James 

Martin, Ziba 
Massey, Charles 

Matlack, John W. 

Murphy, Joseph (2d) 
Murphy, Thomas 

McConaghey, John 



Private 



McCormick, John 
McGowan, Hughey 

Neal, Jonathan 
Norcross, John E. 

Oaks, John 
Orr, William 

Osborne, Orson H. 



Aug. 6, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 16, '62 

Aug. 1, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 12, '63 
Aug. i, '63 

Aug. 7, '62 
July 29, '62 

Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 15/62 
Aug. 5, '62 

July 31, '63 



Aug. 1, '63 
Aug. 5, '62 

Aug. 13, '62 
July 30, '63 

Aug. 6, '62 
Aug. i, '63 

Aug. 12, '62 



Wounded at Wilderness, Va>, May 5, 1864. 

Transferred to Co. A, 24th Regt. V. R. C, 

March 10, 1865. 
Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va. , Dec. 13, 1862, 

and at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 

Transferred to 42d Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 

May 3, 1865. Discharged by Gen. Order 

June 29, 1865. 



5, from Hospital at Mid- 



Deserted Jan. 11, 18 
dletown, Md. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va , June 
2, 1864. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1863. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted July 1, 1863, on march to Gettysburg, 
Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 

Drafted. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. Enlisted in 8th C. S. Infantry at Salis- 
bury, N. C. Was recaptured by Gen. Stone- 
man, while in arms against the U. S. Con- 
fined at Nashville, Tenn. Took oath of alle- 
giance July 6, 1865. Ordered to be released 
Nov. 9, 1865, by order of Sec. of War at 
Camp Cadwaladtr, Phila., Pa. Not entitled 
to receive any consideration as a soldier of the 

u. s. 

Dmfted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Discharged to date June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Deserted Jan. 1, 1S63, from Camp Parole, 

M>1. 

Killed at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Drafted. Promoted to 2d Lt. U. S. Colored 
Troops April 24, 1864, per S. O. 157, A. G. O., 
War Dcpt.,ap. Bv.-Capt., June 20, 1865. Re- 
signed June 20, 1865. 

Discharged Feb. 17, 1863, at Washington. D. 
C., for wounds rec'd at Fredericksburg, Va., 
Dec. 13, 1862. 

Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 7, 

1864. Discharged by Gen. Order May 26, 

1865, per Det. Muster-out roll at Phila., 
Pa. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. ao, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



7i5 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


1 i. 




Pearson, Joseph 


Private 


July 17, '63 


3 


Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Paul, John 




Aug. 6, '62 




Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability March 24, 1864, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Paulding, Jacob S. 


" 


Aug. 18, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Jan. 2, 1864, at Phila., 
Pa. 


Picot, Paul 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


.Ralston, James 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Discharged Jan. 24, 1863, at Camp Convales- 
cent, Va. 


Ralston, John 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died Oct. 21, 1864, at Andersonville, Ga. 


Reineer, Harrison 


" 


July 18, *6 3 


" 


Drafted. Absent sick at muster-out Co. No 
record of discharge. 


Reineer, William 




July 17, '63 




Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died on or about Oct. 18, 1864, at 
Andersonville, Ga. Buried in Lawton National 
Cemetery, Millen, Ga., Sec. A, grave 44. 


Reppert, Joseph 


'* 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Roach, John 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Roberts, Owen 


" 


July 31, '63 


" 


Drafted. Wounded at Petersburg, Va., June 
19, 1864. Discharged ; date unknown. 


Robertson, Charles 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 12, 1862, on march through Md. 


Rogers, Clarence 




Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 


Samond, John 


" 


Aug. ii, '62 


" 


Discharged on Surgeon's certificate March 19, 
1863, near Falmouth, Va. 


Sands, Thomas 




Aug. 6/62 




Wounded at Dabney's Mills, Va. , Feb. 6, 1865. 
Discharged for disability Aug. 25, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 


School, Henry J. 




Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Discharged Jan. 29, 1863, at Phila., Pa., for 
wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. 


Shilling, William 




Aug. 6, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 


Smith, James (ist) 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 16, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 
Pa. 


Smith, James (2d) 


" 


Aug. 1, '63 


" 


Drafted. Absent in arrest at Muster-out of Co. 
No record of discharge. 


Smith, Joseph 




July 13, "63 




Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Dec. 4, 
1864. Grave 12217. 


Sneath, Amos 




July 15, '63 




Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness. Va., May 8, 
1864. Discharged for disability Sep. 11, 1864, 
at Washington, D. C. 


Snyder, Francis 


" 


July 28, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 30, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 
Pa. 


Sourbeer, Amos 


" 


Aug. 2, '63 


" 


Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
1, 1864. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 



— 7 16 — 



Sourwalt, George 

Stauffer, Benj. F. 
Stevens, Benj. J. 

Stoy, William H. 

Sullivan, John 

Swartz, Jacob 

Taggert, Robert 

Taylor, Joseph 

Thompson, David 

Toland, William 
Trainer, Arthur 
Tuff, Sloan 
Turner, John 

Wells, John 
Weitknecht, John J. 

Wermouth, Alfred 

Wheeler, Thomas 
Wise, Samuel 
Wood, George W. 

Woodhouse, F. D. 
Woodfall, James A. 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 

Aug. 13, '62 



Aug. 14, '62 
Oct. 12, '63 

Aug. 18, '62 

Aug. 15, '62 

Oct. 12, '63 

July 15, '63 

Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. 16, '62 

Aug. 14, '62 
July 28, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 1, '63 

July 17, '63 
July 10, '63 

Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 16, '62 
July 31, '63 

Aug. 13, '62 
Aug. 16, '62 






Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Transferred to 51st Co., 2d Battalion, V. R. 
C, Feb. 6, 1865. Discharged on Surgeon's 
certificate, April 14, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 
1864. Killed at Pegram's Farm, Va., Sep. 
30, 1864. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability Feb. 1, 1864, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Transferred to V. R. C., Jan. 15, 1865. Co. 
and Regt. not stated. 

Drafted. Wounded at Pegram's Farm, Va., 
Sep. 30, 1864. Discharged for disability June 
5, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., on or 
about Sep. 10, 1864. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, at Cainp Parole, 
Md. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Transferred to Co. H, 1st Regt. V. R. C., 
Dec. 8, 1863. Discharged by Gen. Order 
July 14, 1865. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Aug. 16, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 
Pa. 

Deserted Aug. 18, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 
Pa. 

Drafted Captured at Weldon R. R., Va., Aug. 
21, 1864. Sent from Belle Island, Richmond, 
Va., to Salisbury, N. C.Oct. 9, 1864. Trans- 
ferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 

1865. 

Drafted. Wounded in action Oct. 1, 1864. De- 
serted Jan. 29, 1865, while on furlough. 

Drafted Killed at Weldon R. R., Va., Aug. 
21, 1864. Buried in Poplar Grove Cemetery, 
Petersburg, Va., Sec. D, Div. D, grave 124. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted on the march to Gettysburg, Pa. 

Deserted April 27, 1863. 

Drafted. Deserted April 24, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp 
Parole, Md. 

Captured at Gettysburg, Pa., July 3, 1863, and 
at Weldon R. R., Va., Sep. 21, 1864. Mus- 
tered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



Total, 137. 



717 — 



COMPANY "G.' 



Names. 

Courtland Saunders 
John V. Hunterson 

William West 

Richard W. Davids 

Henry K. Kelly 

John R. White 

William F. Gardner 
Jonas Brubaker 
John Rudhall White 

George W. Moore 
Samuel Hagerman 

William Wilier 

John L. Bell 

Henry Conner 
John Pfeiffer 

William Courtney 
Robert McClung 

Peter Morad 

William P. Bechtel 

Christopher Dauman 

Chas. Brightmeyer 
Henry Beck 
Evan F. Owen 

Thomas Ferguson 
Alexander Rhoads 



Capt. 



ist Lt. 
2d Lt. 

ist Sgt. 
Sgt. 



Corpl. 



Enrol- 
ment. 




Aug. 16, '62 


3 


Aug. 20, '62 


" 


Aug. 16, 62 


" 


Aug. 23, '62 


" 


Aug. 20, '62 


" 


Aug. i, '62 


<■ 


Sep. 18, '62 


<• 


July 29, '62 


« 


July 31, '62 


•< 


Aug. 1, '62 


« 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


« 


Aug. 5, '62 


« 


July 31, '62 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


» 


Aug. 5, '62 




Aug. 7, '62 


» 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


July 27, '62 


" 


July 27, '62 


" 



Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Promoted from ist Lt. Co. E Sep. 20, 1862. 
Transferred to Co. E Nov. 1, 1862. 

Promoted from ist Lt. Nov. i, 1862. Resigned 
Jan. 12, 1863. 

Promoted from ist Lt. Co. B June 12, 1863. 
Killed at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863. 

Promoted from ist Lt. Co. F Oct. 27, 1863. 
Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Resigned Jan. 4, 1865. 

Promoted from ist Sgt. to 2d Lt. Oct. 22, 1862 ; 
to ist Lt. Jan. 8, 1863; to Capt. Feb. 15, 1865. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted from 2d Lt. Co. I Nov. i, 1862; to 
Quarter-Master Jan. 8, 1863. 

Promoted from Sgt. Feb. 15, 1865. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted from ist Sgt. Co. K Aug. 29, 1862. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. 
Promoted from Sgt. Co. H Jan. 8, 1863 : and to 

ist Lt. Co. D June 6, 1864. 

Promoted to ist Sgt. Feb. 15, 1865. Wounded 
at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Aug. 12, 1864, 
at Phila., Pa. 

Promoted from Corpl. to Sgt. March 1, 1863; 
and to ist Lt. Co. B Nov. 16, 1864. 

Promoted to 2d Lt. Co. C Jan. 19, 1864. 

Promoted from Private March 1, 1865. Mus- 
tered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Sergeant-Major Sep. 1, 1864. 

Wounded in action July 23, 1863. Transferred 
to 129th Co., 2d Battalion, V. R. C, March 
— , 1864. Discharged Aug. 7, 1865. 

Mortally wounded June 26, 1864, and died July 
8, 1864, at David's Island Hospital, N. Y. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 11, 1863, at Phila., 

Pa. 
Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Dec. 14, 1862, from Falmouth, Va. 

Discharged Feb. 14, 1863, at Camp Convales- 
cent, Va., for wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, 
W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Wounded at Gettysburg, Pa.. July 2, 1863, and 
at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. Discharged 
for disability Aug. 8, 1864, at Phila., Pa. 

Discharged for disability March 9, 1863, at 
Washington, D. C. ^^_^_ 



7i8 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Robert Black 


Corpl. 


Aug. s, '62 


3 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Wilderness, Va., May — , 1864. 
Prisoner from May 6, 1864, to Feb. 23, 1865. 
Discharged by Gen. Order July 14, 1865, per 
Individual Muster-out roll, at Phila., Pa. 


John Werntz 




July 28, '62 




Transferred to loth Co., 2d Battalion, V. R. C., 
July 16, 1863. Discharged by Gen. Order 
June 28, 1865. 


Robert A. Johnston 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


'* 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Charles Taylor 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Killed at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 


James Fetters 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Deserted Dec. 13, 1862, from Falmouth, Va. 


Henry S. Lewis 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 




Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June i, 1865. 


Thomas Dight 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Jas. S. McLaughlin 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June i, 1865. 


John Coonan 


" 


July 27, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Andrew Davis 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Allburger, William 


Private 


Aug. 9, '62 




Discharged Feb. 7, 1863, at Phila., Pa., for 
wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. 


Alton, John 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 




Discharged for disability Jan. 28, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Armstrong, James F. 


" 


July 31, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability March 30, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Ayres, George 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


* * 


Deserted April 28, 1863, on march to Chancel- 
lorsville, Va. 


Beam, Alcibiades 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability April 1, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Bechtel, Francis 




Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Died Dec. 14, 1862, of wounds rec'd at Fred- 
ericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 


Bevan, Benjamin 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Blair, William 




Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability March 21, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Bisburg, George 




Aug. 12, '62 




Died Oct. 8, 1862, at Phila., Pa., of wounds 
rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. 


Bowers, Bernhalt 


" 


July 30, '62 




Deserted Sep. 25, 1S62, from Lowe's Balloon 
Corps, Sharpsburg, Md. 


Brown, Henry C. 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Burke, Robert 




July 28, '62 




Wounded at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863. 
Transferred to Co. I, 20th Regt. V. R. C, 
June 7, 1S64. 


Colflesh, Charles 




Aug. 4, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Killed in action Oct. 1, 1864. Buried 
in Poplar Grove National Cemetery, Peters- 
burg, Va., Div. C, Sec. F, grave 7. 


Colebaugh, Henry H 




July 22, '63 




Drafted. Absent sick at Muster out of Co. 
Discharged June 3, 1865, on Detachment 
Muster-out roll at Washington, D. C. 


Craig, Henry 
Crowley, Bernard 


- 


July 28, '62 
Sep. 10, '63 


- 


Discharged for disability April 14, 1863, at 

Phila., Pa. 
Substitute. Deserted Oct. 19, 1863, near Cen- 

treville, Va. 



719 — 



Names. 



Enrol- 
ment. 



Crombey, William 
Curly, Martin 

Daley, Patrick 
Danley, John 

Dougherty, James 
Dyel, Edward 

Eshelman, Tobias 

Esray, Lewis 
Fithian, Wm. D. 

Flounders, Eli K. 
Flours, William 
Freas, Asa 
Fullerton, Charles 

Gilbert, Theodore 
Gorman, Samuel 
Green, George 
Hause, Ephraim 
Hause, Jacob 

Harlin, George W. 
Hays, Richard 

Hegans, George 
Helmbold, Franklin 
Helt, William A. 

Holmes, Jeremiah 



Private 



Aug. 9, '62 
July 27, '62 

Aug. 12, '62 
Sep. 24, '63 

July 28, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 

Aug. n, '62 

Aug. 5, '62 

Aug. 4, '62 

Aug. 4, '62 
Sep. 24, '63 
Aug. 5, '62 
Aug. n, '62 

Aug. 8, '62 
July 27, '62 
Aug. 8, '62 
July 20, '63 
July 15, '63 

Aug. s, '62 
July 15, '63 

Nov. 16, '63 
July 27, '62 
July 31, '63 

July 31, '63 



Deserted Dec. 9, 1863, at Camp Parole, Md. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 14, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Mustered out witn Co. June i, 1865. 

Drafted. Absent sick at muster out of Co. 
Mustered out on Detachment Muster-out roll 
June 2, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Deserted July 1, 1863, from Emory Hospital, 
Washington, D. C. 

Wounded and captured at Shepherdstown, W. 
Va., Sep. 20, 1862. Discharged for disability 
Nov. 27, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 

Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 6, 1864. 
Prisoner from May 8, 1864, to April 28, 1865. 
Discharged June 2, 1865, per Individual Mus- 
ter-out roll at Phila., Pa. 



Deserted Oct. 11, 18 
Pa. 



>2, from Hospital at Phila., 



Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va. , Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Jan. 26, 1863, 
near Falmouth, Va. 

Mustered out with Detachment May 15, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Deserted Feb. 24, 1864, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. Broke out of guard house. 

Mustered out with Detachment May 15, 1865, 
at Phila., Pa. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Died in camp Feb. 1, 1863, near Fal- 
mouth, Va. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 



Discharged for disability Aug. 30, 1862, at Camp 
Union, Phila., Pa. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 19, 1863, near 
Falmouth, Va. 

Dr fted. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. Transferred to unassigned men of 91st 
Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Substitute. Committed to Castle Thunder, 
Richmond, Va., March 26, 1864, as a paroled 
Yankee. 

Drafted. Deserted May 8, 1864, from Ricord 
Hospital, Washington, D. C. 



Deserted Sep. 29, i£ 
Pa. 



2, at Oxford, Chester Co , 



Substitute. Transferred to 46th Co., 2d Bat- 
talion V. R. C, Oct. 24, 1864. Discharged 
by Gen. Order July 7, 1865. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 8, 1863, near Beverly 
Ford. Va. 



— 7 2 ° — 



Names. 
Hostler, Samuel 
Hostler, William 
Hubbs, Edwin F. 

Jeroy, Julius 

Johnson, George 
Johnston, Wm. C. 

Kane, James 

Keen, William 

Kennedy, Alexander 

Kiker, William H. 
Kopp, Jacob 

Knert, Francis 

Lawless, William 
Leed, William 

Lloyd, Frederick 
Longacre, Alfonzo 

Marden, Benj.H. 

Marker, Frederick 
Marker, George 

Marker, Lewis 
Mauch, John D. 

Miller, James F. 

Mingus, Henry H. 

Morgan, William 
Murphy, James 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 


Eg 


Feb. 8, '64 


3 


July 18, '63 


« 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


July 17, '63 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


July 29. '63 


" 


Sep. 23, '63 


" 


Sep. 24, '63 


" 


Aug. 11/62 


•• 


July 20, '63 




Aug. 12, '62 


>• 


July 15. '63 


« 


July 20, '63 


" 


July 29, '62 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


'• 


Aug. 13, '62 


«< 


Aug. 11/62 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


.. 


July 18, '63 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 



Aug. 9, '62 

Sep. 10, '63 
Sep. 14, '63 



Died Sep. 20, 1864, at David's Island, N. Y. 
Buried in Cypress Hill Cemetery, L. I. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Transferred to 106th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. 
C, April 25, 1864. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 20, 1863, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Deserted Sep. 28, 1862, near Sharpsburg, Md. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Died Jan. 14, 1863, at Annapolis, Md. 

Substitute. Deserted Feb. 22, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Substitute. Deserted April 6, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Substitute. Deserted Feb. 20, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded in front of Petersburg, Va., 
in 1864. Transferred to Co. B, 3d Regt. V. 
R. C, June 16, 1865. 

Transferred to Co. F, nth Regt. V. R. C, 
June 17, 1864. 

Substitute. Transferred to Navy March 4, 1864. 

Drafted. Died May 4. 1865, at Lincoln Hos- 
pital, Washington, D. C. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Nov. 24, 1863, 
near Kelly's Ford, Va. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Dishonorably discharged May 31, 1872, 
to date from Aug. 25, 1864. 

Discharged by Gen. Order May 19, 1865, per 
Individual Muster-out roll at Phila., Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 21, 1863. Re-en- 
listed Dec. 22, 1863. Transferred to Co. I, 
91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. D, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Wounded and captured at Wilderness, Va., 
.May 5, 1864. Sent from Richmond, Va., to 
Andersonviile, Ga., June 8, 1864. No further 
record. 

Wounded at Chancellorsville, Va. Transferred 
to 135th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C., Feb. 3, 
1864". 

Drafted. Transferred to Navy for trial for de- 
sertion, April 13, 1864. 

Substitute. Deserted April 28, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 



— 7 21 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


5 <i 




Mulchay, Patrick 


Private 


Aug. 11, '62 


3 


Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Mustered out on Detachment Muster-out roll 
June 9, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 


McBride, Robert 




Aug. 11/62 


" 


Deserted July 1, 1863, from Hospital at Phila., 
Pa. 


McCallister, Stewart 


" 


July 15, '63 


<• 


Substitute. Transferred to Navy March 4, 1864. 


McClintock, Wm. 




Aug. 4, '62 




Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864, and 
at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. Mus- 
tered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


McFall, Isaac 




Aug. 5, '62 




Transferred to 23d Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Aug. 17, 1863. Discharged by Gen. Order 
June 10, 1865. 


McGuire, William 




Aug. 4, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1 862 Transferred to Unassigned Detachment, 
1st Battalion V. R. C, March — , 1865. Dis- 
charged by Gen. Order June 26, 1865. 


Ned, John 




Aug. 29/62 


'* 


Substitute. Deserted Feb. 22, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 


Owen, William 


" 


July 27, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 14, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 


O' Donald, Thomas 


" 


July 27, '62 


*' 


Transferred to Co. I, 12th Regt. V. R. C, Sep. 
4, 1863. 


O'Lary, John 




July 27, '62 


" 


Deserter from 2d Maryland Regt., arrested in 
Baltimore, Md., Sep. 1, 1862. 


Peale, Franklin 




Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 59th Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, Sep. 12, 1863. 


Pinyard, Bright 


" l Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Wounded at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863. 
Deserted July 4, 1S63, at Gettysburg, Pa. 


Quinlan, James 


! Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 28, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 


Racraft, Robert 


Sep. 20, '63 


" 


Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 


Ran, Thomas 




Sep. 9, '63 


" 


Substitute. Discharged for disability March 7, 
1864, at Washington, D. C. 


Rhodes, Alexander 




July 27, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability March 9, 1863, at 
Washington, D. C 


Rien, Edward 




Sep. 24, 63 




Drafted. Wounded at North Anna, Va., May 
24, 1864. Dishonorably discharged, to date 
July 10, 1865. 


Riley, James 


" 


July 28, '62 


" 


Transferred to 33d Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Feb. 7, 1864. 


Ryan, Thomas 




Sep. 9/63 




Drafted. Prisoner from Oct. 14, 1864, to May 
26, 1865. Discharged by Gen. Order June 9, 
1865, per Individual Muster-out roll at An- 
napolis, Md. 


Scanlan, Patrick 




Sep. 24, '63 




Substitute. Committed to Castle Thunder, 
Richmond, Va., March 26, 1864, as a paroled 
Yankee. 


Schoppfel, Wm. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864, and 
died at Andersonville, Ga., Aug. 10, 1864. 


Semple, William 


" 


Aug. 11/62 


" 


Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Shronk, John 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Deserted May 6, 1864, at Wilderness, Va. 



46 



722 — 



Names. 
Smith, Charles 
Smith, Thomas H. 
Sorden, James F. 
Steel, Arthur 

Steel, Thomas 

Sturgess, Isaac 
Suplee, Israel 

Thomas, Thomas 

Thompson, Thomas 

Todd, Frank Gay 
Toy, Jacob 

Troop, David 
Tschudy, Eli 

Tschudy, John 
Wagenknight, Wm. 

Walton, John L. 
Watkins, William 

Williams, Joseph 

Wismer, Charles R. 

Wonnerwick, Chn. 

Worth, Charles G. 

Zaub, William 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
7>ient. 

July 20, '63 
July 20, '63 
Aug. 2, '62 
Aug. 11, '62 

Aug. 11, '62 

Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 5, '62 

July 15/63 

July 15, '63 

July 30, '63 
Aug. s, '62 

Aug. 7, '63 
July 18, '63 

Feb. 8, '64 
Aug. 11, '62 

Aug. 8, '62 
Aug. s, '62 

Aug. 1, '63 

Aug. 9, '62 

July 30, '62 

Aug. 4, '62 

July 7, '63 






Substitute. Transferred to Co. D, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862, 
also borne as John T. Sorden. 

Killed at Pegram's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Buried in Poplar Grove Cemetery, Petersburg, 
Va., Div. D, Sec. C, grave 106. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 11, 1863, near 
Falmouth, Va. 

Died March 8, 1863, at Falmouth, Va. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 27, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Substitute. Deserted April 28, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Substitute. Captured May 5, 1864. Died in 
Richmond, Va., May 12, 1864. 

Substitute. Transferred to Navy March 4, 1864. 

Wounded at Cold Harbor, Va., June 1, 1864. 
Mustered out with Detachment June 5, 1865, 
at Phila., Pa. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Drafted. Wounded at North Anna, Va., June 
1, 1864. Discharged for disability March 16, 
1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Transferred to Co. I, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 
1865. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
DKcharged for disability July 26, 1865, at 
Chester, Pa. 

Deserted Sep. 29, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 

Deserted May 11, 1865, from Lincoln Gen. Hos- 
pital, Washington, D. C. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 21, 1863, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 28, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Deserted. Returned. Transferred to Co. I, 

91st Regt. P. V., June i, 1865. 
Transferred to 131st Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 

June 12, 1864. 

Drafted. Killed in action at Wilderness, Va., 
May 8, 1864. 



Total, 14s. 



COMPANY "H- 



F. A. Donaldson 
Joseph Ashbrook 



Capt. 



Aug. 19, '62 
Aug. 4, '62 



Wm. S. Batchclder 1st Lt. Aug. 20, '62 " Resigned Nov. 16, 1863 



Honorably discharged Jan. 14, 1864. 

Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. K Nov. 8, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



7?3 



Names. 



Rank. 



Enrol- 
ment. 






Thomas M. Coane 



Henry Conner 



Purnell W. Smith 
Sylvester Crossley 



ist Lt. 



2dLt. 



Aug. 2, '62 



Aug. 15/62 



Aug. 19, '62 
Aug. 2, '62 



Robert C. Bennett 


ist Sgt. 


Aug. 11 


'62 


Hazelton Joyce 


Sergt. 


Aug. 4, 


•62 


George W. Moore 


« 


Aug. 1, 


'62 


Owen D. Roberts 


" 


Aug. 2, 


'62 


Andrew Cassidy 


" 


Aug. 7, 


'62 


Daniel B. Cobb 


" 


Aug. 2, 


'62 


John VanMeter 


>■ 


Aug. 6, 


•62 


Henry Q. Cobb 


" 


Aug. 11 


'62 


Wilfred McDonald 


., 


Aug. 6, 


'62 


VVilliam Pheeney 


Corpl. 


Aug. 4, 


'62 


William Edinger 


" 


Aug. r, 


"62 


John Monteith 


" 


Aug. 12 


'62 


John G. Tracy 


" 


Aug. 1, 


'62 


David Bingham 


« 


Aug. 7, 


'6s 


William Windle, Jr. 


» 


Aug. 4, 


•62 


Charles O'Neil 


" 


Aug. 11 


'62 


Robert Gillen 


« 


Aug. 13 


'62 


William H. Brooks 


« 


Aug. s, 


'62 


James Darling 


« 


Aug. 11, 


'62 



Promoted from Sgt. to 2d Lt. Dec. 8, 1863; to 
ist Lt. June 19, 1864. Wounded at Spottsyl- 
vania C. H., Va., May 10, 1864. Honorably 
discharged Oct. 4, 1864. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Promoted from 2d Lt. Co. C Dec. 21, 1864. 
Commissioned Capt. Co. E March 28, 1865. 
Not mustered. Honorably discharged, to date 
Oct. 28, 1865. 

Resigned Dec. 1, 1862. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Promoted from Sgt. Jan. 19, 1864. Prisoner 
from June 2, 1864, to Feb. 14, 1865. Dis- 
charged on resignation, to date April 12, 



Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



[3, 1862. 



Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Deserted March 1, 1863, from Hospital at 
Point Lookout, Md. 

Promoted to 2d Lt. Co. G Jan. 7, 1863. 

Wounded at Pegram's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Discharged for same at Chester Hospital, Pa., 
July 18, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 4, 
1864. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Transferred to 51st Co., 2d Battalion V. R. 
C, Feb. 6, 1865. Discharged by Gen. Order 
April 14, 1865. 

Discharged March 5, 1863, for wounds rec'd at 
Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Discharged for disability Oct. 24, 1863, at Phila.,. 
Pa. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 28, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Discharged for disability Dec. 31, 1862, near 
Alexandria, Va. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Prisoner from June 2, 1864, to April 20, 1865. 
Discharged June 30, 1865, per Individual 
Muster-out roll at Washington, D. C. 

Died July 25, 1864, at David's Island, N. Y., 
of wounds rec'd in action July 29, 1864. 



Mustered out with Detachment June 5, 
Phila., Pa. 



;, at 



Mustered out with Detachment June 3, 1865, at 
Washington, D. C. 

Discharged for disability Sep. 15, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Discharged Nov. 10, 1863, per Special Order 

499, W. D. A. G. O. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



724 — 



Nantes. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






John Tomer 


Corpl. 


Aug. 12, '62 


3 


Mustered out with Co. June i, 1865. 


Thomas H. Mensing, 
Sen. 




Aug. 5, '62 




Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Transferred to 53d Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C., 
Nov. 13, 1863. 


Thomas H. Mensing 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Wounded at Laurel Hill, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


William Thornton 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


- 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


James McGinley 




Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Captured at Chancellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. 
Discharged June 28, 1865, per Individual 
Muster-out roll at Phila., Pa. 


John McGrath 


" 


July 22, '63 


" 


Drafted. Died Aug. 10, 1864, at 1st Div. 5th A. 
C. Hospital. 


Joseph E. Booth 


Mus. 


Aug. 12, 62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability June 29, 1863, 
at Washington, D. C. 


Allgaier, Charles 


Private 


July 18, '63 




Drafted. Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va.,Sep. 
30, 1864. Discharged for disability June 29, 
1865, at Phila., Pa. 


An verier, Hiram 




July 10, '63 




Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 5," 
1864. Discharged for disability Dec. 28, 1864, 
at York, Pa. 


Ashman, Benjamin 


" 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Auther, Robert 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 20, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Ayers, Lorenzo W. 


" 


Aug. 8/62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Bahl, Samuel B. 


" 


Aug. 25, '63 


" 


Drafted. Mustered out with Detachment May 
25, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 


Baker, Charles 


" 


Sep. 23/63 




Substitute. Deserted Dec. 5, 1863, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


Baker, John 


" 


Sep. 24, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Bales, John 


" 


July 29, '63 


" 


Substitute. Wounded near Cold Harbor June 
6, 18G4. Deserted Nov. 8, 1864. 


Ball, James 


" 


July 29, '63 


" 


Substitute. Discharged Sep. 21, 1864, by order 
of Sec. of War. 


Barr, Dennis 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


•< 


Deserted Sep. 22, 1862. 


Barr, William 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 22, 1862. 


Beam, Jacob S. 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Deserted July 6, 1863. 


Bick, John 


" 


Aug. 4, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted April 28, 1864, at Camp 
Barnes, Va. 


Bond, Lewis 


" 


Sep. 10, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Booth, Osborne 


" 


July 13, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. A, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Brant, Charles F. 


'* 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Deserted July 1, 1863. 


Brant, Silas A. 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Discharged by Special Order 11, Army Potomac, 
Jan. 13, 1864. 


Brogan, Edward T. 


" 


July 18/63 


" 


Drafted. Died Dec. 9, 1864, at City Point, Va. 


Brown, James 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted Aug. 20, 1863, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


Brown, Thomas 




Aug. 7/62 




Wounded and captured at or near Cold Harbor, 
Va., June 5, 1864. Mustered out with Co. June 
1, 1865. 



— 725 — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- j 5 ^ 
ment. £ *> 




Butler, David H. M. 


Private 


Feb. 27, '65 


1 


Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 
1865. 


Calhoun, James 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


3 


Deserted June 25, 1863. 


Carter, John 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Conahan, Bernard 


" 


July 26, '63 


" 


Substitute. Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 


Conner, William D. 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


11 


Transferred to Co. I. 2d Regt. V. R. C, Feb. 8, 
1864. 


Creallman, Charles 




Aug. 7, '62 




Died Oct. 25, 1864, of wounds rec'd in action, 
at Lincoln Hospital, Washington, D. C. 
Buried in National Cemetery, Arlington, Va. 


Dare, Charles F. 


" 


Aug. 8, '62 


" 


Promoted to Hospital Steward, Sep. 8, 1862. 


Davis, James R. 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Deitz, Levi A. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Aug. 13, 
1864, near Petersburg, Va. 


Dougherty, Henry 


" 


Sep. 27, '64 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Dychs, Frederick R. 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 24, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 


Eberbach, Edward 




Aug. 13, '62 




Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Wounded at Five Forks, Va., April 2, 1865. 
Discharged Oct. 19, 1865, by Chief" Mustering- 
out Officer, Pa., to date June 1, 1865. 


Edwards, Joseph 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Deserted June 25, 1863, at Gum Springs, Va. 


Fish, Hindle 


•• 


Aug. 13, '64 


1 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Fish, James 


" 


Aug. 13/64 


" 


Mustered out on Detachment Muster-out roll 
June 3, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 


Fisher, John B. 




Aug. 11, '62 


3 


Discharged Jan. 9, 1863, for wounds rec'd at 
Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862, at Wash- 
ington, D. C. 


Fitzpatrick, James 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 22, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 


Frowert, William H 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 




Mustered out with Detachment June 2, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Gale, Henry T. 




Aug. 1, '62 




Deserted Sep. 23, 1862. Arrested May 24, 1864, 
and delivered to Pro. Mar. at Phila., Pa. No 

record of muster out or discharge. 


Gallagher, John 


" 


July 18, '63 


" 


Substitute. Absent sick at muster out of Co. 
No record of discharge. 


Gash, Frederick 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 7, 1863. 


Godfrey, James 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Died Nov. 13, 1863, at Mower Gen. Hospital, 
Phila., Pa. 


Gormley, William 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 22, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 


Graham, Benjamin 




July 15, '63 




Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864 Sent from Richmond, Va.. to Ander- 
sonville, Ga., June 8, 1864. 


Graham, James M. 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 8, 1863, at Hare- 
wood Hospital. 


Hall, William 


" 


Aug. 1, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 10, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 
Pa. 


Hamilton, George 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Hamilton, Hause 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Deserted July 1, 1863, near Gettysburg, Pa. 


Hamilton, Robert 


'< 


Aug. 7, '62 1 " 


Deserted Sep. 16, 1862. 



— 726 



Hastings, Thomas 

Haverstick, Albert 
Hays, John 

Helmick, George 

Henry, George 

Hillman, Augustus 
Houck, Jacob 

Hyatt, James W. 

Johns, William H. 

Keener, John H. 
Kiersted, Joseph 

Kirkbride, Frank H, 
Kiscadden, George 

Lewis, William 

Long, Alfred 

Loyden, Thomas 

Lukens, Alfred N. 
Madison, William 

Markley, John 

Marks, Henry R. 
Martin, Charles 

Mead, James 
Mensing, John H. 

Murphy, James 

Mulligan, Joseph 
McCrea, Henry 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 



July 24, '63 

Aug. 15, '62 
July 24, '63 

Aug. 11/63 

Aug. 21, '63 

Aug. 8, '62 
July 24, '63 

Aug. 12, '62 

July 18, '63 

Aug. 1, '62 
Aug. 5, '62 

Aug. 2, '62 
July 13, '63 

July 15/63 

July 24, '63 

Sep. 26, '63 

Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 8, '62 

July 15. '63 

Aug. 5/62 
July 15, '63 

Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 5, '62 

July 15, '63 

July 15, '63 
Aug. 1, '62 



Substitute. Deserted Dec. 11, 1863, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Substitute. Deserted Feb. 22, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Drafted. Discharged for disability April 14, 
1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Deserted May 28, 1864, near North 
Anna River, Va. 

Deserted Sep. 17, 1862. 

Substitute. Deserted April 28, 1864, at Camp 
Barnes, Va. 

Captured. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Dec. 3, 
1864. Grave 12215. 

Drafted. Wounded and captured near Cold 
Harbor, Va., June 6, 1864. Died Dec. 30, 
1864, at Annapolis, Md. 

Transferred to 95th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
April 4, 1864. 

Killed at Wilderness, Va., May 9, 1864. Buried 
in National Cemetery, Fredericksburg, Va., 
Sec. C, Div. A, grave 586. 

Deserted Sep. 14, 1862, near Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Substitute. Deserted Oct. 1, 1863, at Culpep- 
per, Va. 

Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., 
June 2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., 
July 14, 1864. Grave 3306. 

Substitute. Transferred to the Navy May 3, 
1864. 

Died July 31, 1863, at Washington, D. C. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to Co. D, 16th Regt. V. 
R. C, Sep. 10, 1863. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
4, 1864. Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Died at Phila., Pa., Dec. 21, 1862. 

Substitute. Absent sick at muster out of Co. 
No record of discharge. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Spottsylvania C. H., Va. Trans- 
ferred to Co. B, nth Regt. V. R. C, Feb. 25, 

1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Richmond, Va., March 31, 
1865. 

Drafted. Mustered out on Detachfnent Muster- 
out roll, June 5, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 

Deserted Oct. 6, 1862, at Sharpsbtirg, Md. 



— 727 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






McDonough, John 


Private 


Aug. g, '62 


3 


Deserted Sep. 24, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 


McKinney, James 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Drafted. Died Oct. 10, 1864, at Andersonville, 
Ga., while a prisoner of war. 


McLenaghan, Jas. 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 7, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 


McMurtrie, Hugh 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Wounded at Petersburg, Va., June 29, 1864. 
Transferred to 1st Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C-, 
Dec. 28, 1864. 


McMurtrie, John 




Aug. 6, '62 




Captured at Chancellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. 
Transferred to 53d Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Nov. 13, 1863. 


McNeal, James 


" 


July 15/63 


" 


Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., 
June 2, 1864. No further record. 


Nelson, James 




Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to i62d Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, March 19, 1864. 


Nice, Stephen 


" 


Mar. 6, '65 


1 


Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 
1865. 


Patterson.Thackeray 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


3 


Discharged for disability Jan. 25, 1863. 


Phinney, William 




July 15, '63 




Substitute. Also borne as Finney. Died Aug. 
n, 1864, at Andersonville, Ga., while a prisoner 
of war. 


Ratzell, Alfred 




July 15, '63 




Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 7, 
1864. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 
1864 Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 


Reed, William S. 




July 15, '63 


" 


Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Salisbury, N. C., Jan. 1, 
1865. 


Reynolds, Thos. J. 


" 


Aug. 2, '62 


" 


Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged June 6, 1865, per Individual Mus- 
ter-out roll at Washington, D. C. 


Roberts, Joseph B. 


" 


Aug. 4, '62 


" 


Discharged June 7, 1865, per Individual Muster- 
out roll at Washington, D. C. 


Royer, John 


" 


July 30, '63 


" 


Substitute. Discharged for disability April 27, 
1864, at Beverly Ford, Va. 


Sheer, George W. 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Oct. 8, 1862, at Fairfax 
Seminary, Va. 


Sheub, John M. 


" 


July 13, '63 


*' 


Drafted. Mustered out with Detachment June 
3, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 


Shields, James 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Substitute Dishonorably discharged by sen- 
tence of G. C. M. Sep. 29, 1864. 


Sidney, Walter 


" 


Sep. 24, '63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted Feb. 22, 1864, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


Siegfried, Conrad 




July 24, '63 




Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Sent from Richmond, Va., to Ander- 
sonville, Ga., June 8, 1864. No further re- 
cord. 


Slough, Henry 

Smith, William 
Spain, Richard A. 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 

Aug. 7, '62 
Jan. 23, '64 


" 


Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. Transferred to Co. B, 9th Regt. V. R. 

C, Oct. 26, 1863. Discharged by Gen. Order 

June 1, 1865. 
Deserted Aug. 10, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 
Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 

Died at Andersonville, Ga., Aug. 25, 1864. 

Grave 6823. 



— 72% 



Names. 
Spain, R. Alex. 
Spain, Thomas H. 

Steinemyer, George 

Stickler, George 

Stout, Peter 
Stoy, Henry G. 

Stull, Daniel S. 
Thorp, John 

Tierney, Timothy 

Tindell, William 
Tomlinson, Alfred R. 

Torrens, William 
Townsend, James 

Turner, John 

Von Schlumback, F. 

Wade, Joseph 

Walker, William 
Weaver, Horace T. 

Weitzeman, John 

Whartenhy, John 

Wheeler, James S. 

Williams, Thomas 

Withoff, Henry 

Wise, William 

Wyatt, Francis 

Young, George 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 



Aug. 24, 
Jan. 23, 



Aug. 15/62 



July 20, '63 



Aug. 1, 


'62 


Aug. 7, 


'63 


Aug. 5, 


'62 


Aug. i, 


'62 



Aug. 2, '62 



Aug. s, 


'62 


Aug. 12 


'62 


Aug. 8, 


'62 


Aug. 7, 


'62 


July 15, 


'63 


July 17, 


'63 



Aug. 12, '62 



Aug. 12, 

Aug. 12, 

July 25. 

Aug. 1, 
Aug. 2, 
Sep. 24, 
Aug. 7, 
Aug. 1, 
Aug. 1, 
Aug. 27, 



F * 

$* 



Discharged May 23, 1865, per Individual Mus- 
ter-out roll at Phila., Pa. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Aug. 22, 1864. 
Grave 6436. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability March 4, 
1(564, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. No further record. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 9, 1863. 

Drafted. Absent sick at muster out of Co. 
No record of discharge. 

Died Jan. 13, 1863, at Washington, D. C. 

Discharged for disability July 16, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 27, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Deserted Oct. 24, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 

Deserted. Returned. Mustered out with Co. 
June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Sep. 20, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 

Discharged for disability Jan. 13, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Substitute. Died Aug. 25, 1864, at Anderson- 
ville, Ga., while a prisoner of war. 

Drafted. Discharged May 29, 1865, per Indi- 
vidual Muster-out roll, Summit House, Phila., 
Pa. 

Deserted. Returned. Transferred to Co. B, 
91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Deserted July 1, 1863, at Camp Parole, Md. 

Discharged for disability Jan. 25, 1865, near 
Petersburg, Va. 

Drafted. Died Dec. 9, 1863. Buried in Na- 
tional Cemetery Asy., D. C. 

Discharged for disability Oct. 28, 1862, near 
Sharpsburg, Md. 

Di-u harged for disability Jan. 9, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Substitute. Deserted Dec. 6, 1863, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Discharged for disability March 9, 1863, at 
Alexandria, Va. 

Deserted July 2, 1863, at Gettysburg, Pa., while 
in line of battle. 

Discharged for disability June 29, 1863, at Wash- 
ington, D. C. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. B, 91st Regt. P 
V., June 1, 1865. 



Total, 158. 



729 



COMPANY "J. 



Names. 



Rank. 



Enrol- 
ment. 






C. M. O'Callaghan 

Alfred N. Wetherill 
Nathaniel Bayne 



Edmund DeBuck 

George W. Williams 

William F. Gardner 
Samuel S. Jones 

James R. Lain 

William W. Worrell 
George Oils, Jr. 

Alfred Layman 
Charles C. Baker 



Theo. G. DeCoursey 



Sebastian Schuhman 

William F. Doane 
John Lingo 

Edward Wilkinson 

Joseph Scott 
Samuel Soby 

James Lilly 
William H. Hennings 



Capt. 



ist Lt. 



Aug. 27, '62 

Aug. 27, '62 
Aug. 7, '62 



Aug. 6, '62 





Aug. 11, 


'62 


2dLt. 


Sep. 18, 


'62 


" 


July 29, 


■62 


ist Sgt. 


Aug. 6, 


'62 


" 


Aug. 14, 


•62 


Sgt. 


Aug. 5, 


'62 


•• 


Aug. 22, 


'62 


- 


Aug. 12, 


'62 



Corpl. 



Aug. 18, '62 



Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 5, '62 
Aug. 6, '02 

Aug. 6, '62 

Aug. 15, '62 
Aug. 22, '62 

Aug. 15, '62 
Aug. 15, '62 



Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. Discharged on resignation Feb. 14, 
1864. 

Promoted from ist Lt. Feb. is, 1863. Hon- 
orably discharged March 3, 1863. 

Transferred from Co. C and appointed ist Sgt. 
Jan. — . 1863. Promoted 2d Lt. March 1, 

1863. Transferred to Co. A and promoted ist 
Lt. Oct. 27, 1863. Promoted from ist Lt. Co. 
A Aug. 9, 1864. Wounded at Dabney's Mills, 
Va., Feb. 6, 1865. Mustered out with Co. 
June 1, 1865. 

Promoted from Sgt. -Major to 2d Lt. Nov. 1, 
1862 ; to 1st Lt. Feb. 15, 1863. Resigned Oct. 
20, 1863. 

Promoted from 1st Sgt. Co. C Aug. 11, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to ist Lt. Co. G Nov. 1, 1862. 

Appointed, but never mustered into the United 
States service. 

Promoted from Sgt. March 1, 1863. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to 2d Lt. Co. E Oct. 22, 1862. 

Promoted to Sgt. Oct. 22, 1862. Wounded at 
Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Corpl. Jan. 1, 1863; to Sgt. Jan. 1, 
1865. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Transferred from Non-Com. Staff and reduced 
to Sgt. Dec. 6, 1862. Captured at Wilderness, 
Va., May 5, 1864. Discharged by Gen. Order 
June 9, 1865, per Individual Muster-out roll at 
Phila., Pa. 

Promoted to Corpl. Oct. i, 1862 ; to Sgt. Sep. 1, 

1863. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 

1864, and at Weldon R. R., Va., Aug. 21, 
1864. Mustered out with Detachment May 
27, to date May 26, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Promoted to Sgt. Jan. 1, 1863. Transferred to 
65th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, Oct. 9, 1863. 
Discharged by Gen. Order June 27, 1865. 

Promoted to Commissary Sgt. Dec. 6, 1862. 

Discharged for disability May 2, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Captured in action Aug. 6, 1864. Died at An- 

dersonville, Ga., Oct. 10, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 
Promoted to Corpl. July 8, 1863 

Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1! 

out with Co. June 1, 1865. 
Promoted to Corpl. Sep. 1, 1862. Mustered out 

with Co. June 1, 1865. 
Captured at Cold Harbor, Va 

Promoted to Corpl. May 1, 1865. Mustered 

out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



Wounded at 
1. Mustered 



June 2, 1864. 



73Q 



William Park 
Simon Bolger 

Joseph A. Hall 

William Preston 

Joseph C. Castle 
William Hamson 
Lewis A. Blair 

Joseph L. Seiders 
John McAboy 

George W. Yeager 
Simon C. Shannon 
Ephraim Layman 

Allman, Henry 
Anedore, John 
Avery, Charles 

Barker, Charles C. 

Barrett, John 

Bayne, John 

Beard, Samuel 

Bencke, Henry 
Betcher, Frederick 

Black, John 



Rank. 



Corpl. 



En rol- 
ment. 



£^ 



Mus. 



Private 



Aug. 23/ 
Aug. 15, ' 

Aug. 15, ' 

Aug. 23, 

Aug. 16, 
Aug. 15, 
Aug. 18, 

Aug. 14, 
Aug. 23, 

Aug. 15, 
Aug. 15, 
Aug. 22, 

Aug. 21, 
Aug. 7, ' 
Sep. 29, 

Aug. 21, 

Aug. 15, 

Nov. 10, 

Aug. 22, 

July 18, 

Nov. 23, 

Aug. 19, 



62 



'63 


" 


•62 


» 


•63 


« 


■63 


'* 


'62 


« 



Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. Promoted to Corpl. May 1,1865. Mus- 
tered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Promoted to Corpl. Sep. 1, 1863. Wounded at 
Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864 Discharged 
by Gen. Order June 6, 1865, per Individual 
Muster-out roll at Washington, D. C. 

Wounded at Dabney's Mills, Va., Feb. 8, 1865. 
Discharged for disability June 24, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Promoted to Corpl. June 1, 1863. Discharged 
June 24, 1865, per Individual Muster-out roll 
at Phila., Pa. 

Discharged Dec. 8, 1863, by S. O. 544 War 
Dept. to accept commission in another regt. 

Promoted to Corpl. Sep. 29, 1862. Killed at 
Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Promoted to Corpl. Oct. 1, 1862. Died Jan. 14, 

1863, at Phila., Pa., of wounds rec'd at Fred- 
ericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 

Promoted to Corpl. Sep. 16, 1862. Killed at 
Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1S62. 

Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Harwood Hos- 
pital, Washington, D. C. 

Prisoner from Sep. 20 to Dec. 10, 1862. Mus- 
tered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Discharged by Gen. Order May 18, 1865, on In- 
dividual Muster-out roll at Phila., Pa. 

Died Sep. 21, 1862, near Sharpsburg, Md., of 
wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. Buried in National Cemetery, An- 
tietam, Md., Sec. 26, Lot A, grave 24. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Deserted Aug. 8, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Mustered out with Detachment June 
5, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Oct. 31, 1863, 
at Phila., Pa. 

Substitute. Discharged May 2, 1864, per Gen. 
Orders 91 and 123 War Dept. March 4, 1864. 

Substitute. Deserted Feb. 20, 1864, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate March 4, 
1863, at Reading, Pa. 



Substitute 
Substitute 



Deserted Oct. 16, 1863. 



Prisoner from Aug. 21, 1864, to 
Mar. 4, 1865. Discharged by Gen. Order 
June 29, 1865, per Individual Muster-out roll, 
at Annapolis, Md. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Killed at Spottsylvania, Va., May 10, 



73i 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


N 

£* 




Blatz, Henry 


Private 


Nov. 12, '63 


3 


Substitute. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 22, 
1864. 


Boyn, Michael 


" 


July 31, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted Oct. 23, 1864, from Hos- 
pital at York, Pa. 


Brown, George H. 




Aug. 21, '63 




Substitute. Prisoner from Dec. 10, 1864, to 
April 2, 1865. Discharged by Gen. Order 
Jan. 19, 1865, on Individual Muster-out roll at 
Annapolis, Md. 


Browning, Andrew 




July 22, '63 




Substitute. Honorably discharged Aug. 10, 
1870, to date June 1, 1865, per Special Order 
156, Headquarters Dept. of the East. 


Bunting, Howard M. 




Sep. 29, '63 


" 


Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. Discharged on Surgeon's certificate 
June 30, 1865, at Chester, Pa. 


Conner, John 


" 


Aug. 6, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted Oct. 16, 1863. 


Creelman, William 




Aug. 19, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. 
Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Day, Benjamin 


" 


Sep. 10, '63 


tl 


Substitute, also borne on rolls as John Brown. 
Transferred to Co. A, 91st Regt. P. V., June 
i, 1865. 


Denslow, Lewis F. 


" 


Sep. 29, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. A, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


DePoaley, William 


" 


Sep. 15, '63 


" 


Substitute. Died Oct. 30, 1863, at Washington, 
D. C. Buried in Mil. Asylum Cemetery. 


Donely, Patrick 




Aug. 6, '62 




Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862. 
Discharged for disability June 1, 1863, at 
Washington, D. C. 


Donohoe, Francis 


" 


Aug. 22, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 9, 1863, near Fal- 
mouth, Va. 


Dorson, Michael 


" 


Aug. 22, 62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 21, 1862, at Shepherdstown, Va. 


Douglas, William 


" 


Aug. 7, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 7, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Downs, Patrick 


" 


Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 17, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Duncan, James B. 


" 


Aug. 25, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Easier, John 


«' 


Aug. 19, '62 


" 


Died April 9, 1863, near Falmouth, Va. 


Echbach, Henry 




July 17, '63 




Substitute. Wounded at Petersburg, Va., June 
22, 1864. Dischatged for disability June 19, 
1865, at Washington, D. C. 


Enbody, Robert K. 




Nov. 17, '63 




Substitute. Prisoner from June 2, 1864, to Dec. 
10, 1864. Discharged May 2, 1865 pursuant 
to S. O. 193 of War Dept., A. G. O., 1865. 


Ettinger, Benjamin F. 




Aug. 22, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 81st Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, Dec. 21, 1863. 


Fitzgerald, Francis 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 20, 1862, at Shepherdstown, W. 
Va. 


Fogel, Mark 


" 


Aug. 23, '62 


•« 


Died May 15, 1864, at Fredericksburg, Va., of 
wounds rec'd at Wilderness, Va., May 7, 
1864. 


Folancy, John 




July is, '63 




Substitute. Arrested for desertion Aug. 13, 1863. 
Tried by G. C. M. Aug. 20, 1863. Sentenced 
to be shot to death. Sentence executed Aug. 
29, 1863, near camp at Beverly Ford, Va. 



— 732 — 



Names. 



Rank. 



Enrol- 
ment. 



IS* 



Francis, Henry 
Fullerton, John A. 

Hacker, Theodore S. 

Hamilton, Joseph 
Hamilton, Wm. A. 

Henesey, James F. 

Hennis, Robert H. 

Housemann, Garret 
A. 

Hurrelmyer, G. W, 

Hutton, John 

Jenkins, John L. 

Jones, William J. 
Kafer, Jacob 

King, John 
Koltz, Francis 
Laskey, John 

Links, Frederick 

Linn, Herman 

Lippencott, Joshua 
Little, Joseph C. 

Logan, Henry C. 

Lower, Isaac 

Ludlam, Francis A. 

Madara, W. H. 



Aug. 8, ' 
Aug. 21, 



Aug. 16, '62 



Aug. 25, 
Aug. 5, 



Aug. 1, '63 



Aug. 21 
Aug. 15, 

Aug. 15, 
Aug. 8, 



Aug. 22, '62 



Aug. 19, 
Sep. 29, 

Aug. 1, 
July 30, 
Aug. 5, 



Oct. 15, '63 



Aug. 14, '62 



Aug. 


15, 


■62 


Sep. 


10, 


'63 


Aug. 


12, 


'62 


Aug. 


12, 


'62 


Aug. 


16, 


'62 



Aug. 20, '62 



32, at Shepherdstown, W 



Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864. 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 8, 1864. 
Grave 8149. 

Transferred to 69th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Oct. 7, 1863. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va.,Sep. 20, 1862. 

Deserted Sep. 13, 1862, from Balloon Corps, 
Georgetown, D. C. 

Substitute. Rebel deserter. Transferred to 
Camp Chase, Ohio, Sep. 19, 1863. Trans- 
ferred to Co. A, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865 

Deserted Sep. 21, iH 
Va. 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Aug. 28, 1864 
Grave 7102. 

Deserted April 16, 1863, while on furlough 
(Gotleib W. Hurrelmyer.) 

Captured at Cold Harbor, Va , June 2, 1864 
Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 6, 1864 
Grave 7965. 

Discharged for disability Oct. 27, 1862, at camp 
near Sharpsburg, Md. 

Deserted Sep. 19, 1862, at Hagerstown, Md. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va^, June 
2, 1864. 
1864. 

Substitute. Deserted Aug. 12, 1863, near Bev- 
erly Ford, Va. 

Substitute. Transferred to Co. H, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to V. R. C, Unassigned 
Detachment, Washington, D. C, Mar. — , 



Substitute. Prisoner from June 2, 1864. to Feb. 
— , 1865. Transferred to Co. H, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 24, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Deserted Aug. 31, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Substitute. Transferred to Co. H, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Jan. 10, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Captured at Chancellor? ville, Va., May 5, 1863. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Transferred to Co. D, 1st Regt. V. R. C, Mar. 
28, 1864. Discharged by Gen. Order July 14, 
1865. 

Discharged Feb. 24, 1863, at Phila.. Pa., for 
wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. 



Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 7, 



733 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Manning, Charles 


Private 


Aug. 23, '62 


3 


Deserted Dec. 13, 1862. Returned May 19, 
1865. Transferred to Co. H, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Manning, Samuel Y. 


" 


Aug. 23, '62 


" 


Transferred to 52d Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C., 
Nov. 1, 1864. 


Middleton, RobertS. 


" 


Aug. 18, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 20, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Miller, Edgar 


" 


Sep. 24, '63 




Substitute. Transferred to Co. H, 91st Regt. 
P. V., June i, 1865. 


Monaghan, John 




Sep. 10, '63 




Substitute. Discharged May 2, 1864, per Gen. 
Orders 91 and 123, War Dept., A. G. O., Mar. 
4, 1864. 


Moore, George W. 


'* 


Aug. 20, '62 


" 


Deserted July 15, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 


Morton, George H. 


" 


Sep. 9, '63 




Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor June 2, 
1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga, Oct. 13,1864. 


Morrison, Thomas A. 


" 


Aug. 21, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Musselman, John T. 


" 


Aug. 26, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 21, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md. 


Myers, Andrew B. 




July 20, '63 




Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Sep. 9, 
1864. Grave 8322. 


McCoy, John 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 


McCracken, Ross 


" 


July 15, '63 




Substitute. Deserted Sep. 15, 1863, at Wash- 
ington, D. C. 


McDermot, Thos. J. 




Aug. 15, '62 




Died Sep. 23 of wounds rec'd at Shepherds- 
town, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. Buried in Na- 
tional Cemetery, Antietam, Md., Sec. 26, Lot 
A, grave 22. 


McGarrigal, George 


" 


Aug. 25, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


McGittigan, Jas. S. 




Aug. 20, '62 




Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 2, 1864 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


McMee, James 


" 


Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


McSwain, John P. 




July 17, '63 




Substitute. Rebel deserter. Transferred to 
Camp Chase, Ohio, Sep. 19, 1863. Mustered 
out with Detachment Sep. 28, 1865, at Phila., 
Pa. 


O'Brien, Patrick 


- 


Aug. 19, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


O'Brien, John 




July 29, '63 




Substitute. Discharged May 2, 1864, per Gen. 
Orders 91 and 123, War Dept., A. G. O, Mar. 
4, 1864. 


O'Connor, John 


" 


Aug. 27, '63 




Substitute. Died Jan. 21, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


O'Neil, Edward 


" 


Aug. 19, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Park, Robert 


" 


July 17, '63 




Substitute. Transferred to Co. D, 91st Regt. 
P. V, June 1, 1865. 


Parker, Jacob L. 




July 15, '63 




Substitute. Captured at Beverly Ford, Va., 
April 23, 1864. Discharged July 26, 1865, on 
Individual Muster-out roll at Phila., Pa. 


Pearson, Edwin 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Pfeifer, Charles 




Sep. 9, '63 




Substitute. Discharged on Surgeon's certificate 
Dec. 21. 1863, at Washington, D C. 


Rainese, John 




July 31, '63 




Substitute. Arrested for desertion Aug. 13, 1863. 
Tried by G. C. M Aug. 20, 1863. Sentenced 
to be shot to death. Sentence executed Aug. 
29, 1863, near camp at Beverly Ford, Va. 



734 



Nantes. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


u 




Renick, William 


Private 


July 15, '63 


3 


Substitute. Deserted Dec. 20, 1863, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


Roach, Matthew 


" 


Sep. 24, '63 


■• 


Substitute. Deserted Feb. 18, 1864, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


Rudman, William 


'* 


Sep. 9, '63 


" 


Substitute. Discharged on Surgeon's certificate 
Nov. 20, 1863, near Kelly's Ford, Va. 


Sayre, James T. 


" 


Aug. 22, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 31, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 


Schlegal, John R. 


" 


July 30, '63 


" 


Substitute. Discharged on Surgeon's certificate 
Jan. 11, 1864, at Washington, D. C. 


Scott, George W. 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


<• 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Shit, Frank 




Aug. 15, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Dec. — , 1862, at Camp Parole, 
Md. 


Shubert, Henry 


" 


July 20, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. D, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Shuler, William W. 


" 


Sep. 23, '63 


" 


Substitute. Killed at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. 


Simons, William N. 


•• 


Aug. 23, '62 


« 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Siner, John 


" 


Aug. 21, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Feb. 19, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Smith, Charles 


" 


Nov. 14/63 


" 


Substitute. Transferred to Co. D, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Smith, Jacob W. 


" 


Aug. 20, '62 


" 


Deserted Nov. 19, 1862, from Harwood Hos- 
pital, Washington, D. C. 


Smith, Robert 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Died at Beverly Ford, Va., June 14, 1864. 


Smith, Thomas 


" 


July 30, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted Oct. 11, 1863, at Wash- 
ington, D. C. 


Smith, William 




Sep. 24, '63 




Substitute. Captured at Weldon R. R. Aug. 
21, 1864. Deserted Aug. 31, 1864. Took 
rebel oath of allegiance. 


Sobey, Charles F. 




Aug. 22, '62 




Died at Gettysburg, Pa., July 3, 1863, of 
wounds rec'd July 2, 1863. Buried in Na- 
tional Cemetery, Sec. D, grave 18. 


Solts, Penrose 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 




Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted Dec. — , 1862, at Camp 
Parole, Md. 


Sords, Jacob 


" 


July 20, '63 


" 


Drafted. Discharged on Surgeon's certificate 
Jan. 26, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 


Sourmelian, Wm. 




Aug. 16, '62 




Deserted July 7, 1863. Returned Nov. 23, 1863. 
Mustered out on Individual Muster-out roll 
July 1, 1865, at Fort Delaware. 


Strang, Isaac 


•• 


Aug. 1 8, '62 


" 


Deserted Oct. 18, 1864, at Phila., Pa. 


Sullivan, John 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Deserted Aug. 10, 1863, at Phila., Pa. 


Taylor, Albert J. 


•• 


Aug. 9, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Townsend, Wm. 


" 


Aug. 19, '62 


" 


Discharged for disability Oct. 14, 1862, at 
Sharpsburg, Md. 


Tracy, Edward 


" 


July 15, '63 


" 


Substitute. Deserted Oct. 13, 1863. 


Werner, Phillip 


" 


July 30, '63 


" 


Substitute. Discharged for disability Feb. 29, 
1864, at Camp Barnes, Va. 


Wilson, Phillip H. 


" 


Aug. 21, '62 




Wounded at Fredericksburg, Va. , Dec. 13, 1862. 
Mustered out with Detachment June 5, 1865, 
at Phila., Pa. 



— 735 — 



Nantes. 
Williams, John 
Winnemore, Chas. C 

Woodside, George 

Woolbaugh, Jas. R. 

Yeager, Edwin A. 
Young, James 
Zeigler, Charles H. 



Rank. 



Private 



Enrol- 
ment. 

Nov. 26, '63 
Aug. 7, '62 

Aug. 18, '62 

Sep. 28, '63 

Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 11, '63 
Aug. 18, '62 






Substitute. Deserted April 23, 1864, at Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. Transferred to Co. H, 9th Regt. V. R, 
C, Sep. 10, 1863. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate April 12, 

1863, near Falmouth, Va. Burial record, died 
April 18, 1863. Buried in Military Asylum 
Cemetery, D. C. 

Drafted. Wounded in action Oct. 1, 1864. Dis- 
charged for disability July 25, 1865, at New 
York City. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 14, 1863, at Camp 
Convalescent, Va. 

Substitute. Deserted Oct. 18, 1863, on the 

march. 
Discharged for disability Dec. 29, 1862, at 

Phila., Pa. 



Total, iso. 



COMPANY "K- 



Joseph W. Ricketts 
Lemuel L. Crocker 
Charles M. Young 

Isaac H. Seesholtz 

William M. McKean 
Joseph Ashbrook 

William B. Mayberry 

J. Mora. Moss, Jr. 
James B. Wilson 

John R. White 
Hillery Snyder 

Geo. W. Stotensburg 

Charles A. Reynolds 

Henry T. Peck 



Capt. 



1st Lt. 



2dLt. 



1st Sgt. 



Sergt. 



Aug. 21 


'62 


3 


Aug. 16 


'62 


" 


Jan. 27, 


'63 


" 


Aug. 1, 


'62 


" 


Aug. 21, 


'62 


" 


Aug. 4, 


'62 


" 


July 3 1 . 


•62 


•' 


Aug. 21 


•62 


» 


Aug. 5, 


'62 


" 


July 31, 


'62 


" 


July 31, 


•62 


" 


Aug. 13, 


'62 


'• 


Aug. 9, 


'62 




Aug. 9, 


'62 


" 



Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 

1862. 

Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. C Sep. 20, 1862. 
Resigned Feb. 26, 1864. 

Promoted from Sgt. Co. F, 23d Regt. P. V., 
Jan. 27, 1863, to 1st Lt. April 17, 1863; to 
Capt. June 6, 1864. Died Oct. 29 of wounds 
rec'd at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Promoted from 1st Lt. Co. E Dec. 14, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
. Resigned Mar. 25, 1863. 

Promoted from 1st Sgt. Co. C to 2d Lt. Mar. 26, 
1863 ; to 1st Lt. June 6, 1864; ap. Bvt. -Major 
July 6, 1864 ; pr. to Capt. Co. H Nov. 8, 1864. 

Commissioned 2d Lt. Feb. 27, 1864. Not mus- 
tered. Promoted from 1st Sgt. Nov. 8, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va. , Sep. 20, 1862. 

Promoted from 1st Sgt. Co. A Oct. 22, 1862, to 
st Lt. Co. B Jan. 12, 1863. 

Promoted to 2d Lt. Co. G Aug. 29, 1862. 

Discharged for disability Sep. 9, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Promoted to 1st Sgt. Nov. 8, 1864. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Deserted July 14, 1863, at Williams- 
port, Md. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Promoted to Sgt. -Major Jan. 19, 1863. 



— 736 — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 


u 




Joseph R. Harmer 


Sergt. 


Aug. 12, '62 


3 


Discharged Dec. 20, 1862. for wounds ree'd at 
Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Thomas J. Hyatt 




July 31, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Captured at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 
1864. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Harrison L. Stiles 


" 


Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Theodore B. Fryer 




Aug. 13, '62 




Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. 
Discharged for disability Nov. 5, 1864, at 
Phila., Pa. 


Samuel Nugent 


" 


Aug. 18, '62 




Promoted to Sgt. Jan. 1, 1864. Mustered out 
with Co. June i, 1865. 


Hiram Lake 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 




Promoted to Sgt. Nov. 1, 1864. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Francis Mullin 




Aug. 13/62 


*' 


Promoted to Sgt. Nov. 1, 1864. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Arthur Paul 


Corpl. 


Aug. 11/62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Joseph P. Davis 


'* 


July 31/62 


*• 


Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Sep. 30, 
1862, at Fairfax Seminary Gen. Hospital, Va. 


Charles S. Calhoun 




Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Wounded at Mine Run, Va., Nov. 27, 1863. 
Discharged for disability July 6, 1865, at 
Phila., Pa. 


William Gray 




Aug. 13/62 


" 


Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Detachment May 
26, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 


Francis Harmer 




Aug. 13/62 


'* 


Discharged for injuries June 30, 1863, at Phila., 
Pa., ree'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. 


Anthony Huver 




Aug. 18, '62 




Promoted to Corpl. Sep. 1, 1863. Wounded on 
skirmish line at Cold Harbor June — , 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Phillip Partenheimer 




Aug. 13, '62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862, and at Laurel Hill, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Transferred to Co. B, 19th Ri-gt. V. R. C, 
Aug. 10, 1864. Discharged by Gen. Order 
Aug. 10, 1865. 


William L. Gabe 




Aug. 12/62 


" 


Wounded and captured at Shepherdstown, W. 
Va., Sep. 20, 1862. Promoted to Corpl. Mar. 
1, 1864. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Thomas H. Gabe 


" 


Aug. 11, '62 


•■ 


Promoted to Corpl. Nov. 1, 1864. Mustered 
out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


William E. Kibby 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Mustered out on Detachment Muster-out roll 
June 9, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 


Henry Meyers 


" 


Aug. 12, '62 


'* 


Promoted to Corpl Mar. 1, 1865. Mustered out 
with Co. June 1, 1865. 


John L. Smith 


" 


Nov. 10, '62 


" 


Promoted to Corpl. Mar. 10, 1865. Transferred 
to Co. E, 91st Regt. P. V. June 1, 1865. 


John Stone 


Mus. 


Aug. 16, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Peter A. Hagarty 


" 


Aug. 6, '62 


" 


Wounded at Chancellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. 

Deserted July 14, 1K63, on the march. 


Alexander, Geo. F. 


Private 


July 31, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 21, 1862, near Sharpsburg, Va. 


Anderson, William 


" 


July 31/63 


" 


Drafted. Deserted Aug. 8, 1S63, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 


Anscorch, Henry 


" 


( let. i-', '63 


*' 


Drafted. Killed at Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. 



- 737 



Names. 
Ball, Samuel 

Ball, Thomas M. 
Baum, George W. 

Bowman, John 

Brophy, Peter 

Brown, Jacob 

Burke, John 

Campbell, Joseph R 
Canon, George D. 

Carey, John 

Clay, Casper 

Clemson.Tilgham R. 

Clifton, Matthias, Jr. 
Cole, Christian I. 

Cole, John C. 

Conlin, Michael 

Crage, Thomas 
Crosby, Henry T. 

Cunningham, Wm. P. 

Davis, Edward 

Davis, Wm. H. H. 
Dennis, Enoch H. 

Deville, Albert 

Dodge, Ansel H. 
47 



Private 



Enrol- 


ment 




Aug. 


18 


'62 


Aug. 


M 


'62 


Aug. 


8, 


'62 


Aug. 


9> 


'62 


Aug. 


ii, 


'62 


Aug. 


ii 


'62 


Aug. 


4, 


'62 


Aug. 


5, 


'62 


Aug. 


15) 


'62 


July 


20, 


'63 


Sep. 


26, 


63 


Sep. 


9. 


63 


Aug. 


18, 


'62 


Aug. 


15, 


'62 



SI'S 



July 23, '63 

Aug. 1, '63 

Aug. 4, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 14, '62 

Nov. 14, '63 

July 31, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 

Sep. 9, '63 
Aug. 13, '62 



Wounded at Chancellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. 
Discharged for disability May 23, 1863, at 
Washington, D. C. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Feb. 19, 

1863, near Falmouth, Va. 

Transferred to Co. G, 10th Regt. V. R. C, Oct. 
5, 1864. Discharged by Gen. Order June 28, 
1865. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va. , Sep. 20, 

1862. Discharged for disability June 2, 1863, 
at Frederick, Md. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Mar. 20, 
863, at Phila., Pa. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
and died Oct. 27, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. E, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Deserted April 26, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 

1864. Discharged for disability Jan. 3, 1865, 
from Hospital at Phila., Pa. 

Transferred to 59th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Sep. 12, 1863. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862 ; at Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 1862 : at 
Wilderness, Va., May 5, 1864. Mustered out 
on Individual Muster-out roll June 22, 1S65, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Wounded and captured at Wilder- 
ness, Va., May 8, 1864. Died at Anderson- 
ville, Ga., Sep. 8, 1864. Grave 8169. 

Drafted. Mustered out with Detachment June 
3, 1865, at Washington, D. C, as Martin 
Conlin. 

Deserted Aug. 6, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown. W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to Co. K, 6th Regt. V. R. 
C.i Feb. 20, 1S64. 

Discharged May 16, 1864, and commissioned 2d 
Lt. in U. S. Col. Troops. 

Drafted. Discharged for disability Feb. 29, 
364, at Camp Barnes, Va. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va , Sep. 20, 1862. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown. W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Transferred to 96th Co., 2d Battalion 
V. R. C, Feb. 11, 1864. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. E, 91st Regt. P. 

V., June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Sep. 1, 1862, at Phila., Pa. 



7i< 



Names. 
Donaghy, Thomas 

Drew, Joseph 
Eberly, Israel 

Edwards, Frederick 

Eddowes, Thomas I. 

Eisenhart, Edwin 
Gay, George 
Hallowell, George W 
Hallowell, Joseph E 

Hamburger, John J. 
Harrison, Joseph C. 
Hearmes, Israel 
Hebbling, Philip 
Holt, James P. 

House worth, Val 
Howell, George H. 

Huff, Charles H. 

Hunter, James 
Huver, John P. 

Huver, Thomas 

Ives, John 

Jones, Samuel M. 

Justice, John J. 
Kerns, Frederick 



Rank. 



Enrol- 
ment. 

Aug. i, '63 

Aug. 15, '62 
July 18, r 6 3 

July 15, '63 

Aug. 9, '62 

July 23, '63 
Nov. 13, '63 
Aug. 14, '62 
Aug. 13, '62 

Sep. 10, '63 
Aug. 11, '62 
July 14, '63 
Sep. 9, '63 
Aug. 14, '62 

July 22, '63 
July 24, '63 

Aug. 12, '62 

Aug. 14, '62 
Jan. 19, '65 

Aug. 22, '64 

Sep 10, '63 

Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 5, '62 
July 30, '63 






Drafted. Mustered out with Detachment Sep. 
28, 1865, at Phila., Pa. Rebel deserter. 

Deserted July 1, 1863, near Williamsport, Md. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. E, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Died Nov. 1, 1863, near Warrenton, 
Va., 1st Div. Hospital. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Promoted to 2d Lt. 29th Regt. U. S. C. 
Troops Oct. 14, 1864. MusieYeil out Nov. 6, 

186^. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. E, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. E, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 5. 1863, at Phila., 
Pa. 

Captured at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Mustered out on Individual Muster-out 
roll June 30, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Deserted April 22, 1864, near Beverly 
Ford, Va. 

Discharged for disability Mar. 4, 1863, near Fal- 
mouth, Va. 

Drafted. Died Oct. 10, 1864, at Andersonville, 
Ga., while a prisoner of war. 

Drafted. Died Mar. 10, 1864, at Richmond, 
Va., while a prisoner of war. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862; at Wilderness, Va.. May 5, 1864; at 
Five Forks, Va.. Mar. 31, 1865. Mustered out 
on Detachment Muster-out roll June 13, 1865, 
at Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. G, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 
30, 1864. Transferred to Co. C, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability at Regimental Hos- 
pital Feb. 26, 1863. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Transferred to Co. E. 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 
1865. Borne as John Huret. 

Mustered out with Detachment June 3, 1865, at 
Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Deserted Oct. 19, 1863, near Foxe's 
Mills, Va. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Mustered out on Detachment Muster-out roll 
May 20, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Died July 8. 1865, at Convalescent Gen. Hos- 
pital, Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Died Mar. 16, 1864, at Richmond, 
Va., while a prisoner of war. 



— 739 



Names. 

King, Joseph R. 
Kirchenmann, J. J. 

Knorr, John 

Kressler, Isaac 
Kressler, William 

Lane, William 
Lang, Franz 

Lake, Ruben 
Lawrence, George W. 

Leeser, George I. 

Lenoir, George W. 

Lloyd, John T. 

Ludy, Samuel I. 
Lukens, Joseoh 

March, Henry C. 

Marshall, George W. 
Martin, Thomas I. 

Mathews, Henry 
Miller, Charles 

Miller, John 

Miller, Joseph 

Montgomery, Andrew 
Mnllin, James I. 



Enrol- 
ment. 

Aug. ii, '62 
Aug. 9, '62 

Aug. 8, '62 

Sep. 10, '63 
Sep. 10, '63 

Nov. 14, '63 
July 30, '63 

Aug. 11, '62 
Aug. 12, '62 

Aug. 18, '62 

Aug. 18, '62 

Sep. 10, '63 

Aug. 16, '62 
Sep. 9, '63 

Aug. 14, '62 

Aug. 11, '62 
Aug. 11/62 

Aug. 9, '62 
Sep. 9, '63 

July 7, '63 

July 30, '63 

Aug. 12, '62 
Aug. 14, '62 



££ 

£ * 



Deserted July i, 1863, near Williamsport, Md. 

Died Oct. 7, 1862, at Sharpsburg, Md., of 
wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. 

Discharged Dec. 26, 1862, at Phila., Pa., for 
•wounds rec'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 
20, 1862. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. G, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1 , 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
3, 1864. Transferred to Co. G, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Transferred to Co. G, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 
1864. Transferred to Co. K, nth Regt. V. 
R. C, Feb. 25, 1865. Discharged on Sur- 
geon's certificate, Oct. 31, 1865. 

Died Oct. 18, 1862, of wounds rec'd at Shep- 
herdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Transferred tn Co. D, 24th Regt. V. R. C, Jan. 
25, 1864. Discharged by Gen Order June 27, 



Wounded at Weldon R. R., Va., Aug. 21, 1864. 
Mustered out on Detachment Muster-out roll 
June 9, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 

Wounded near Spottsylvania C. H., Va., May 
18, 1864. Mustered out with Co. June 1, 
1865. 

Drafted. Discharged for disability Mar. 18, 
1864, at 3d Div. U. S. A. Gen. Hospital, 
Alexandria, Va. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 
5, 1864, at Five Forks, Va., Mar. 31, 1864. 
Mustered out on Detachment Muster-out roll 
Oct. 13, 1865, at Phila., Pa. 

Wounded at Peeble's Farm, Va., Sep. 30, 1864. 
Discharged for disability June 20, 1865, at 
Washington, D. C. 

Transferred to 59th Co., 2d Battalion V. R. C, 
Sep. 12, 1863. 

Prisoner from July 2, 1864, to April 5, 1865. 
Mustered out June 5, 1865, on Individual 
Muster-out roll, at Annapolis, Md. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 



, 1864, at Beverly 
ability Sep. 9, 1865, 



Drafted. Deserted Jan. 2 
Ford, Va. 

Drafted. Discharged for di 
at Phila., Pa. 

Drafted. Mustered out with Detachment May 
30, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 

Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 

Died Feb. 14, 1863, near Falmouth, Va. 



— 74^ 



Murray, Peter 

McAlphin, Robert 
McCanless, G. 



McCormick, Patrick 
McGovern, Patrick 

Mcllhaney, Samuel 

McKenna, James 
McKnight, James 

Ogden, Richard C. 
Oliver, Richard 

Pattison, Robert 
Percival, Thomas R. 

Pickens, James 
Riley, William 

Rose, Robert 

Roster, John 

Saxton, Charles 

Schwoerer, Ambrose 
Schwoerer, Henry 

Shaw, Samuel, Jr. 

Shields, John C. 

Sigel, August 

Simmers, Charles 

Siner, Thomas 

Smith, Benjamin F, 



Private 



En rai- 
ment. 

July 30, '63 

Aug. 15, '62 
Aug. 12, '62 



Oct. 15, 
Oct. 15, 



Aug. 12, '62 



Aug. 15, 


62 


July 15, 


'63 


Aug. 11, 


'62 


Jan. 9, 


°S 


Aug. 13 


'62 


Aug. 4, 


'62 


Aug. 11, 


'62 


July 3°. 


*6 3 


Aug. 28, 


'63 


July 30, 


'63 



Aug. 5, '62 



Aug. 13, 


'62 


July 31. 


•62 


Aug. 8, 


'62 


Aug. 13 


'62 


Julys 1 . 


'62 


Aug. 11 


'62 


Aug. 18 


•62 






Aug. 12, '62 



Drafted. Deserted Jan. 29, 1864, from picket 
line. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Wounded at Shepheidstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862; at Rappahannock Station, Va., Nov. 7, 

1863. Discharged for disability May 3, 1864, 
at Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Mustered out with Detachment May 
25, 1865, at Washington, D. C. 

Drafted. Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 

1864. Transferred to Co. G, 91st Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 

Discharged for disability April 15, 1863, near 
Falmouth, Va. 

Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Drafted. Captured at Cold Harbor, Va., June 
2, 1864. Died at Andersonville, Ga., Oct. 15, 



Deserted Jan. 1, 1863, from Camp Parole, Md. 

Transferred to Co. F., 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 
1865. 

Deserted July 4, 1863, near Frederick, Md. 

Deserted Aug. 11, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 

Pa. 
Discharged on Surgeon's certificate Mar. 1, 1863, 

near Falmouth, Va. 

Drafted. Wounded at Petersburg, Va., Mar. 
20, 1864. Transferred to Co. G,9ist Regt. P. 
v., June 1, 1865. Also borne as Wriley. 

Drafted. Wounded and captured at Wilder- 
ness, Va., May 8, 1864. Died at Salisbury, 
N. C, Dec. 29, 1864. 

Drafted. Wounded at Petersburg, Va. , Mar. 29, 
1864. Transferred to Co. G, 91st Regt. P. V., 
June 1, 1865. 

Captured at Peeble's Farm, Va., Oct. 1, 1864. 
Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 

Deserted Oct. 1, 1862, near Sharpsburg, Md. 

Discharged on Surgeon's certificate April 15, 
1863, near Falmouth, Va. 

Discharged for disability Feb. 24, 1863, at 
Phila., Pa. 

Transferred to Co. D, nth Regt. V. R. C, 
Mar. 16, 1864. 

Deserted Aug. 7, 1862, at Camp Union, Phila., 
l'a. 

Discharged for disability Jan. 6, 1863, at Wash- 
ington, D. C. 

Discharged Feb. 19, 1863, at Phila.. Pa., for 
wounds rcc'd at Shepherdstown, W. Va., 
Sep. 20, 1862. 

Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
11-62. Deserted July 4, 1863, at Williamsport, 

Md. 



— 74i — 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- 
ment. 






Smith, Charles 


Private 


Sep. g, '63 


3 


Drafted. Discharged for disability April 21, 
1864, at Carver Hospital, Washington, D. C. 


Stockton, Daniel 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Stockton, William D. 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Swartz, Levi 


" 


July 23, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. — , 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. No record of transfer found. 


Swartz, Samuel 


1 ' 


July 23, '63 


ti 


Drafted. Wounded May 18, 1864. Transferred 
to Co. E, 91st Regt. P. V., June 1, 1865. 


Toland, Hiram C. 


" 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Wounded at Wilderness, Va., May 8, 1864. 
Died at Phila., Pa., May 31, 1864. 


Tyson, Thomas 




Aug. 13/62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability Mar. 16, 1863, 
at Phila., Pa. 


Vice, Jonathan 


" 


Aug. 18, '62 


" 


Deserted July 4, 1863, near Frederick, Md. 


Walraven, Stanley 


" 


Aug. ii, '62 


" 


Died at Warrenton, Va., Nov. 16, 1862. 


Wallace, Alonzo R. 


" 


Aug. 5, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. 20, 1862, near Sharpsburg, Md. 


Warner, Lewis 


" 


Aug. 18, '62 


" 


Died Nov. 21, 1862, at Alexandria, Va. 


Welch, James 


" 


Aug. 14, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 


Wilkins, Charles 




Sep. 10, '63 


" 


Drafted. Transferred to Co. G, 91st Regt. P. 
V., June 1, 1865. 


Wilson, James 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Deserted Sep. — , 1862, at Washington, D. C. 


Wiseman, Henry 


" 


Nov. 16, '63 


" 


Drafted. Absent sick at muster out of Co. No 
record of discharge. 


Wolfenden, Edward 


*' 


Aug. 13, '62 


" 


Mustered out with Co. June 1, 1865. 


Wright, Charles 




July is, '63 




Drafted. Wounded at Five Forks, Va., Mar. 
31, 1864. Mustered out June 2, 1865, on In- 
dividual Muster-out roll at Washington, D. C. 


Young, William 




Aug. 18/62 




Wounded at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 
1862. Discharged for disability May 4, 1863, 
at Phila., Pa. 


Zimmerman, C. H. 


" 


Aug. 15, '62 


" 


Killed at Shepherdstown, W. Va., Sep. 20, 1862. 



Total, /jj. 



UNASSIGNED MEN. 



Bier, John 
Burke, Christian 



Private Mar. 7, '65 
Aug. 28, '63 



Substitute. Deserter from 118th Regt. P. V. 

Substitute. Discharged for disability Dec. 
1863, at Camp Convalescent, Va. 



Total, 2. 



SUBSTITUTES 

For Drafted men, who Deserted while on their way to join the 118th Regt. 
P. V., at Camp near Bealton Station, Va., on or before Aug. 6, 1863, 
and prior to Dec. 4, 1863. 



Acton, William 

Barker, William E. 
Bennett, William 



Private 



Sep. 24, 63 

July 31, '63 
July 15, '63 



Deserted Nov. 26, 1863, at Relay House, Md. 
No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 



742 



Names. 



Rank. 



Enrol- 
ment. 



£ *N 



Benson, Thomas 
Bowland, William 
Bosquier, Charles 
Brown, Charles 

Brown, George 
Brown, Mark 

Byrne, Edward 
Carroll, Richard K. 
Champlain, Jerome 
Cobb, I. R. 
Conrad, George 
Crawford, George 
Doughaney, Morris 
Dubois, Charles 
Edmund, Francis 
Elliott, William 
Garrett, George 
Hanson, James 
Harris, Richard 
Harrington, Ovid I. 
Harvey, Thomas 
Hill, William 
Kitchen, Thomas 
Kriss, Amos 
Kuhm, George 

Lai, Emile 

Lambert, John 
Larken, Peter 
Leishorn, Peter 
Manning, John 
Marshall, Henry 



Private 



July 31, *6 3 
July 30, '63 
July 29, '63 
Sep. 26, '63 

July 30, '63 
Sep. 26, '63 

July 31, '63 
July 31, '63 
July 31/63 
July 31, '63 
Aug. 1, '63 
Aug. 1, '63 
July 15/63 
July 15/63 
July 15/63 
July 30, '63 
July 15/63 
•July 31, '63 
July 15, '63 
July 15, '63 
July 30, '63 
Aug. 1, '63 
July 15, '63 
Aug. 1/63 
July 15, '63 

July 30, '63 

July 30, '63 
July 30, '63 
July 3 1 . ' 6 3 
Aug. 1, '63 

Sep. 24, '63 



No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

Deserted Nov. 27, 1863, at Alexandria, Va. No 
further record. 

No further record. 

Deserted Nov. 27, 1863, at Alexandria, Va. No 
further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

!(AliasG. Weik.) Arrested Aug. 13, 1863. Tried 
by G. C. M. Aug. 20, 1863. Sentenced to be 
! shot to death. Sentence executed Aug. 29, 
863, near camp at Beverly Ford, Va. 

Arrested Aug. 13, 1863. Tried by G. C. M. 
Aug. 20, 1863. Sentenced to be shot to death. 
Sentence executed Aug. 29, 1863, near camp 
at Beverly Ford, Va. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record. 

No further record, 

Deserted Nov. 27, 1863, at Alexandria, Va. No 
further record. 



743 ~ 



Names. 


Rank. 


Enrol- , ft >i 
ment. £ *s 




McDonnell, Patrick 


Private 


Aug. i, '63 3 


No further record. 


Miller, Frederick 






July is, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Miller, John 






July 31, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Miller, John G. 






July 15, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Millon, Dennis 






July 29, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Morton, Joseph 






Aug. 1, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Muller, Thomas 






July 15, '63 


•• 


No further record. 


Murry, John 






Aug. 1, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Nixon, Benjamin 






July 15, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Price, William D. 






July 15/63 


" 


No further record. 


Schlegtal, Christian 






July 31, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Smith, James 






July 15, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Smith, James 






July 30, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Smith, John 






July 15, '63 


•• 


No further record. 


Smith, John 






July 15, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Stewart, James 






July 15, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Taylor, Rolla 






July 15, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Taylor, Wm. Thos.L. 






July 30, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Turner, John 






Aug. 1/63 


" 


No further record. 


Ullrich, Michael 






July 31/63 


" 


No further record. 


Walter, Charles 






July 31/63 




Arrested Aug. 13, 1863. Tried by G. C. M. 
Aug. 20, 1863. Sentenced to be shot to death. 
Sentence executed Aug. 29, 1863, near camp 
at Beverly Ford, Va. 


Wettson, Frank 


" 


July 31, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Wilson, Michael 


" 


July is, '63 


" 


No further record. 


Wilson, William 


" 


July 15/63 


" 


No further record. 



Total, j8. 



SUMMARY OF ROSTER. 

Field and Staff 25 

Co. A 156 

Co. B 139 

Co. C 137 

Co. D 146 

Co. E 147 

Co. F 137 



Co. G 145 

Co. H 158 

Co. I 150 

Co. K 153 

Unassigned men 2 

Substitutes for Drafted men 58 

Total .... 1553 



— 744 — 

SURVIVORS' ASSOCIATION, 118TH CORN EX- 
CHANGE REGIMENT P. V. 

To preserve the friendships formed during our term of service, Company H, ist 
Regiment N. G. P. M., was formed soon after our return from the war, exclusively 
of members of the 118th P. V. For several years success attended its efforts, and 
as members withdrew from active duty, new and younger material was recruited 
from other sources. At the present time Company H is recognized as one of the 
strongest and best-disciplined companies of the 1st Regiment and still retains on 
its roll the names of several of our members from its earliest inception. 

A notice was inserted in the Scout and Mail (weekly paper) for members of the 
Il8th P. V. to meet at the north-east corner of Fourth street and Fairmount 
avenue, on the evening of May 19, 18S2, for the purpose of forming a Survivors' 
Association, signed by Captain J. B. Wilson, Company C, and J. Marembeck, Com- 
pany E. On that evening some thirty survivors met as above and formed a tem- 
porary organization by selecting, pro tern., President, Geo. Wm. Lenoir, Company 
K; Secretary, Geo. W. R. Carteret, Company F; Treasurer, Samuel F. Delany, 
Company E. After a general exchange of opinions, it was unanimously decided 
that the association be formed, and adjourned to meet June 2, 1882. 

y une 2, 1882. — Committee on Organization was appointed : Geo. W. Williams, 
Company C; Wesley Freed, Company A; James Hainan, Company E; Thomas 
J. Reed, Company F; John Tomer, Company H; Wm. P. Cunningham and 
Matthias Clifton, Jr., Company K. Also Committee on By-laws, etc. : Geo. W. 
R Carteret, Company F; A. Luker, Company E; S. Helverston, Company C. 

yune 30, 1882. — Committee on By-laws presented their report, specifying that 
all honorably discharged members of the nSth Corn Exchange Regiment P. V. 
were members of this association ; the 20th September of eacli year the time for 
the annual reunion and banquet, and that monthly meetings be held on the Ia>t 
Friday night of each month. 

yuly 30, 1882. — First election of officers. President, Jas. P. Holt, Company 
K. Vice-Presidents, Wm. L. Harrner, Company A; Benj. F. Cox, Company B; 
Geo. W. Williams, Company C ; A. H. Walters, Company D ; A. Luker, Company 
E; A. Wermouth, Company F; S. Hagerman, Company G ; Thomas H. Men- 
sing, Company H ; Wm. Parks, Company I; Samuel M. Jones, Company K. 
Secretary, Geo. W. R. Carteret, Company F. Treasurer, Samuel F. Delany, Com- 
pany E. 

September 20, 1882. — First annual reunion and banquet at Maennerchor Hall, 
in commemoration of the battle ot Shepherdstown, W. Va., September 20, 1862. 
Spirited remarks were made by Comrades Holt, Coan and White. 

yuly 27, 1883. — At this meeting it was decided to mark one of our positions 
held at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863, with a monument. The following com- 
mittee was appointed to collect funds, etc. : Geo. W. R. Carteret, Company F; 
Geo. W. Williams, Company C; Jas. B. Wilson, Company C; Geo. W. Lenoir, 
Company K; A. Wermouth, Company F; J. L. Smith, Company K. 

September 20, 1883. — Election of officers. President, Jas. P. Holt, Company 



— 745 — 

K. Vice-Presidents, Geo. W. Williams, Company C ; S. Crossley, Company H ; 
J. P. Fraley, Company C. Secretary, Geo. W. R. Carteret, Company F. Treas- 
urer, Samuel F. Delany, Company E. On adjournment seventy-two members and 
guests attended the reunion and banquet. Addresses were made by Comrades 
Holt, Coan, Osborn, Bashaw and Captain Collins, Company H, 1st Regi- 
ment P. G. 

September 6, 1884. — The Survivors' Association of the 1 iSth Corn Exchange 
Regiment P. V., accompanied by a large number of the members of the Commer- 
cial Exchange of Philadelphia and a number of invited guests, left the Broad 
Street Station of the Pennsylvania Railroad in a special train of eight cars for 
Gettysburg, Pa., their object to unveil with fitting ceremonies the monument erected 
by the Commercial (formerly Corn) Exchange and Survivors' Association to mark 
one of the positions held during the battle and in memory of those who died that 
the nation might live. They were accompanied by Company H of 1st Regiment 
N. G. The party numbered in all about 300 persons. Gettysburg was reached 
about nine o'clock in the evening. Sunday, 7th, was spent in visiting the battle- 
field. Monday, September 8th, ceremonies attending the unveiling of the monu- 
ment took place at Round Top promptly at 1 1 A. M. Prayer by Rev. R. F. Innes, 
of West Philadelphia. Wm. Brice, on behalf of the Commercial Exchange, 
stated the object of ceremonies and introduced the orator of the day, Hon. A. G. 
Cattell, ex-United States Senator of New Jersey and chairman of Corn Exchange 
Committee of Twenty-one, who, in 1862, raised the regiment in twenty dny*. 
Address by Jas. P. Holt, president of Survivors' Association, read by Geo. W. 
Williams, vice-president, in the absence of President Holt, detained by sickness. 
Address, H. T. Peck, formerly adjutant of regiment, " Antietam to Appomattox.'' 
Address of reception, on behalf of Gettysburg Monument Association, Hon. D. 
A. Buehler. Salute was fired by Company H, 1st Regiment N. G. The party 
returned to Philadelphia in the afternoon. 

September 20, 1884 — Election of officers. President, Geo. W. Williams, Com- 
pany C. Vice-Presidents, John R. White, Company G; James B. Wilson, Com- 
pany C; Augustus Luker, Company E. Secretary, Geo. W. R. Carteret, Com- 
pany F. Treasurer, Albert Wermouth, Company F. 

April 24, 1885. — Committee to revise roster of regiment was appointed: T. 
Kelly, W. H. Read, Company A ; J. B. Wilson, B F. Cox, Company B; G. W. 
Williams, J. Michener, Company C ; H. H. Hodges, T. K. Linton, Company D ; 
J. Marembeck, A. Luker, Company E; B. J. Inman, R. Hornly, Company F; 
J. B. White, C. Dauman, Company G; S. Crossley, T. B. Coan, Company H ; A, 
Layman, W. Parks, Company I ; G. W. Lenoir, S. M. Jones, Company K ; C. F. 
Dare, field and staff. J. L. Smith, Company K, was added to committee Decem- 
ber 18, 1885. 

September n, 1885. — At this meeting it was decided to erect a tablet to mark 
first position held by regiment in advance of Wheat-field, at Gettysburg, Pa., July 
2, 1863. Committee: T. H. Mensing, Jr., Company H; Geo. W. Lenoir, Com- 
pany K; G. W. R. Carteret, Company F; H. H. Hodges, Company D; J. L. 
Smith, Company K. 



— 74<"> — 

September 21, i6S$. — Reunion and banquet at Shuster's Cafe. Sixty-one mem- 
bers and guests were present. Addresses were made by Messrs. Brice, Winslow, 
and Neal, of Commercial Exchange; Captain Collins, Company H, ist Regiment 
N. G., and Comrades Williams, Layman and Holt. 

October 30, 1885. — Election of officers. President, S. Crossley, Company H. 
Vice-Presidents, T. H. Mensing, Jr., Company H; G. W. Lenoir, Company 
K; S. M. Jones, Company K. Secretary, G. W. R. Carteret, Company F. 
Treasurer, H. H. Hodges, Company D. 

July 3, 1886. — A delegation of the members of the Commercial Exchange, with 
guests, left Broad Street Station in a special palace car, closely followed by forty- 
five survivors and friends, for Gettysburg, Pa., to dedicate tablet in advance of 
Wheat-field. The party numbered about IOO, and arrived at Gettysburg about 5 
P. M. Sunday, July 4th, was spent in visiting the battle-field. Monday, July 5th, 
at 10 a. M., Survivors' Association of the nSth P. V. formed in line at head- 
quarters of General E. D. Baker Post, No. 8, G. A. R., Philadelphia Department 
of Pennsylvania, and marched in a body, accompanied by Frankford Brass Band, 
of Philadelphia, to the Wheat-field, via Baltimore Pike and Emmetsburg Road. 
Ceremonies of dedicating tablet commenced promptly at 11 A. M. Prayer by 
Comrade W. H. Read, Company A. Address, Wm. Brice, of Commercial Ex- 
change, introducing the orator of the day, Hon. Joseph Thomas, late surgeon of 
the 118th P. V. Address, S. Crossley, President 118th Survivors' Association. 
Reception of tablet on behalf of Gettysburg Battle-field Association, Hon. D. A. 
Buehler. The party returned to Philadelphia in the afternoon. 

September 20, 1886. — Reunion and banquet at Shuster's Cafe. Sixty-seven 
members and guests were present. Addresses were made by General J. L. Cham- 
berlain, our old brigade commander; Colonel E. G. Sellers, 91st P. V. ; Captain 
Kensil, Company H, ist Regiment N. G. ; Hon. A. G. Cattell, Wm. Brice, S. N. 
Winslow and Comrades Crossley and Holt. 

October 29, 1886. — Election of officers. President, G. W. Lenoir, Company 
K. Vice-Presidents, W. M. Read, Company A; S. M. Jones. Company K ; J. 
Michener, Company C. Secretary, G. W. R. Carteret, Company F. Treasurer, 
H. II. Hodges, Company D. 

May 30, 1887. — The following committee were appointed, in conformity with 
recent act of State Legislature, to select design and site to mark our second posi- 
tion at Gettysburg, Pa., July 2, 1863 : G. W. Williams, Company C; J. P. Holt, 
Company K ; J. Michener, Company C ; S. M. Jones, Company K ; J. Mead, 
Company H, together with president, secretary and treasurer. 

September 30, 1887. — Reunion and banquet at Shuster's Cafe. Seventy-nine 
members and guests were present. Addresses were made by General C. P. Her- 
ring, Colonel E. G. Sellers, 91st Regiment P. V., Major J. Ashbrook, Hon. J. 
Thomas, J. T. Grill, 5th Ohio, and Comrades Lenoir, Hyatt, Fryer and Adams. 

October 28, 1887. — Election of officers. President, J. L. Smith, Company K. 
Vice-Presidents, W. A. Read, Company A; A. Layman, Company I; A. Luker, 
Company E. Secretary, G. W. R. Carteret, Company F. Treasurer, H. H. 
Hodges, Company D. 













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